Wait, What?
by crackberries
Summary: You and me could write a bad bromance. Maybe something in between. And you should really stop showing up at my door completely smashed.
1. Talking Food

**Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia. Doesn't it feel weird when people say "This country and that country" belong to Hidekaz Himaruya? He's become like Mother Earth or something.**

**A/N: I've been writing angsty original fiction for the past few months, so I thought I'd do a lighthearted fanfiction or something. Since I've never done that. And I should probably post something on here.**

**Warnings: Swearing, mentions of substance abuse, and human names. because in my head, when they're not in a meeting, they more often than not just call each other by their human names.**

* * *

Matthew had no idea what was going on.

Wait, yeah, he did. He'd rather not acknowledge it.

It was 4am in the morning, the night before a world meeting. He had finished his report early that day (even if he was never really acknowledged at the meetings, he still prepared something) so that he could watch the night's hockey game and hit the sack early for a good night's rest. It had gone well up until thirty minutes ago, when he had been woken up by a persistent knocking at the door.

He pulled off his covers after the knocking didn't cease and grumbled as he made his way down the stairs. He tried to muster a polite demeanour as he wondered which drunken family member or friend had come now. This, even for a nation a polite as him, was hard at this hour. He looked up into the peephole of his door, and as suspected, it was a friend at the doorstep. A loud, utterly drunk, and possibly high friend. An albino friend. He sighed, and opened the door, stepping to the side as the ex-nation stumbled in.

"Mattie!" cried Gilbert as he rounded in on the younger nation, pulling him into a big bear hug. Matthew sputtered and then swatted the man away. He could smell alcohol, and the weed smoke. Definitely the weed smoke, which probably had who knows what else mixed into it.

"What do you want?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Panc-"

"No. "

"Mat_thew_!" Gilbert whined. "Pancakes and maple syrup help with my-"

"No, aspirin and water in the morning will help you with your hangover. And whatever other problem you'll have. I'm not making pancakes. " Matthew interrupted, his voice tired.

Gilbert pouted.

"Not awesome. "

"Don't care."

Ignoring Gilbert's protests, Matthew turned on his heel and headed back to his room. He was so used to having the nation randomly crashing at his place, that he no longer bothered asking the man if he wanted to sleep on the couch or the guest bedroom. Gilbert always slept on the big black couch in the living room, claiming it was the most "awesome couch ever". He even took dignity in naming the couch "New Prussia".

Matthew's head had barely been on the pillow for ten minutes when he heard loud swearing downstairs. He groaned and covered his head with a pillow. Five minutes later, a burning smell wafted into his room. Five seconds later, the smoke alarm went off. Matthew kicked off the sheets again, and dragged himself downstairs again. And that brought him to his current situation.

He was not surprised to see Gilbert waving frantically at the black smoke issuing from the frying pan, while yelling obscenities and... insulting the food? Matthew rolled his eyes, and sighed. He turned off the smoke alarm, which had started to give him a headache.

"Shit!" The albino swore. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking pancake!"

"Gilbert!"

"Don't talk to me like that you whore! It's you're fucking fault you're so damn hard to cook!"

"Gil- what the hell? The pancake isn't talking to you!"

Gilbert turned around to see a very irritated Canadian.

"Mattie, you're awake! Guess what! This sorry bitch of a pancake talked to me! It's like, a pancake enchanted by the English bastard!"

"And it looks like it's been cooked by him too, " Matthew grumbled quitely.

"That's because your frying pan is a dickhead and doesn't know how to cook."

"Are you sure it's the frying pan?"

"No shit, I didn't use anything else."

Matthew groaned.

"Why could you not have waited till the morning?"

"Awesome can't wait, Birdie."

Matthew sighed again and ran his head through his hair.

"If I make you pancakes, will you please, please shut up? And clean up the mess?"

"Fuck yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

With that, Matthew started cooking. Gilbert stood over the kitchen sink, scraping out burnt pancake from the frying pan, still swearing at it. Matthew looked over as he saw the Prussian describing what he would do to the frying pan's mother and shook his head.

He didn't even know why the two were friends. They weren't really ever politically connected, and probably wouldn't really ever be, since Prussia was no longer a nation. But after April Fools around a year ago, where he showed up at Gilbert's doorstep with a bottle of maple syrup, the two had somehow formed a rather weird, but close friendship. At a time like this, he found himself reflecting back, looking for reasons as to why exactly he was cooking for the man at such an ungodly hour.

Matthew was snapped out of his reverie when he felt a head on his shoulders. Gilbert was leaning over him, watching him cook.

"You'd make an awesome wife, Mattie. "

"Err, thanks?" Matthew shifted from one foot to another uncomfortably.

"You cook for me, you clean up after me, and you even let me share your bed when that stupid family of yours decides to sleep over."

Matthew was startled by this uncharacteristic gratitude. He wondered if this was really Gilbert.

"I mean, I think you're practically my bitch."

Yeah, it was definitely Gilbert.

"Get off my shoulder, I'm trying to cook your damn food."Matthew rolled back his shoulder, pushing the Prussian's head off.

"Killjoy ~"

"Yeah, yeah. "

A few minutes later and the pancakes were done. Matthew set them on the counter for the albino, who was now talking to Gilbird on how the little fat bird needed a diet. He quickly helped himself to one, then trudged back upstairs to hopefully go back to sleep in that warm bed of his.

* * *

Matthew stirred as the bed creaked and there was a slight dip. Squinting, he rolled over and came face to face with Gilbert.

"Why are you here?"

"The couch stopped being awesome. "

"What do you mean it stopped being awesome?" Matthew asked, frowning.

"Just did. Now it's unawesome. And Gilbird and Kumawhatever took over your guest bed. So now I'm sleeping here instead. "

Too tired to protest or inquire any further, Matthew just rolled over, his back facing Gilbert.

"Goodnight Birdie."

"Goodnight Gilbert. "

A small smile curved his face, as he fell asleep. For all his weirdness, Gilbert made a pretty good friend. He never forgot Matthew, or mistook him for his brother. Aside from Francis and Alfred, Gilbert was the only one that not only remembered his country name, but his human name as well.

And it was always nice to have a friend that remembered. Even if said friend was a bit off-kilter.


	2. France

The next morning, Matthew found out exactly why the couch had suddenly become "unawesome."

And after fuming over it for a bit, he grabbed a hockey stick and went after Gilbert. The chase that had ensued served to further wreck the house, something that only angered the Canadian even more.

"Aww come on Mattie! It wasn't _that_ bad!" Gilbert said, his voice muffled due to the closet he was now hiding in.

"You got maple syrup! All over my new couch! And you didn't even _try_ to clean it up!" Matthew yelled, as he tried to pry open the door. Gilbert was pulling on the other end of the doorknob, fearing the stick-wielding Canadian. For someone who had a reputation (when he was remembered) of being quiet and polite, the kid could pack a mean blow.

"You don't have to beat me up for it! I think my hangover's already doing a mighty fine job!"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt!" The doorknob had started to crack from the strength of both the nations. "I am going to kill you!"

"Mattie, this isn't how you treat a guest!"

"My guests aren't usually this _stupid_!" Matthew grunted, as the door started to splinter.

Gilbert suddenly let go of the doorknob, causing Matthew to stumble and fall back, yelling in surprise.

"Kesesesese, you'll never get me~" He laughed, stepping over the blonde. However, he didn't move fast enough, as Matthew grabbed his ankle and yanked, causing the Prussian to face-plant on the (unawesome, uncarpeted) floor. Matthew stood up, keeping one foot on the other's back, and raised his hockey stick.

"Fuck! Alright, _Mom, _I'll clean your goddamn couch!"

* * *

"I can't believe you actually care about these meetings!" Gilbert complained, as they stood in the elevator, waiting to go up to the 33rd floor. "I don't see what the problem is in being a bit late."

"Gilbert, just incase you didn't listen the first fifty times I told you, I'm hosting this meeting. And it's not proper etiquette When you're a host to show up to the meeting an hour late, eh."

"Whatever. It's your fault anyways, you didn't have to beat me up in the morning. "

"You ruined my couch. "

"It's not my fault that maple syrup is a complete bitch to clean out. _" _Gilbert said, sticking his tongue out. Matthew stuck his tongue back out. The two stared at each other then burst out into laughter.

"Don't worry about it Matthew. They're probably just fought the whole time like always. It's not like shit gets done anyways." Gilbert said, after their laughter subdued.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out, making their way to the meeting room.

Secretley Matthew hoped that it was true. The nations fought at all the big meetings for the first few hours until someone called them into order. Hopefully this one would be no exception. For a change, he wouldn't even mind if they hadn't noticed his absence.

However, whoever was watching down from the heavens clearly did not like Matthew. As the two stepped into the meetig room, they were greeted by a cold silence, instead of the usual ruckus. All the countries turned their head towards the two.

"Canada. " Said Germany curtly. He had, as usual, assumed the role of the impromptu leader. Matthew felt himself shrinking under everyone's gaze.

"M-m-my ap-apologies, I d-did not mean to come so late I was held up a-and..." he trailed off, helplessly, feeling his face grow redder and redder. Germany directed his glare towards his older brother.

"East?"

Matthew could tell from the corner of his eye that even Gilbert, who was used to showing up late, had a flicker of unease run through him.

"What ever reason you two have for being late, please do not let it happen again. " Germany said, when the two didn't say anything.

They took their seats without a word, Canada between England and France and Prussia next to Germany.

As it turns out, the regular fight had been there after all. However, half an hour ago, America had stormed out of the room, with Russia following close behind. With the two nations gone, the rest quietened down, finding that it had become easier to pay attention. They had officially started the meeting, and that's when they noticed both Canada and Prussia were absent.

As China went up to talk, Canada felt a poke at his side. France was looking at him, a small smile on his face.

"_Mathieu, _is there anything I should know about?" he whispered, so to not incur the wrath of Germany.

Canada blinked.

"What?"

"It's not like you to come in so late to a meeting, especially when you're the host."

"Well, I had a bit of a busy morning..."

France raised his eyebrows.

"And you came in with Prussia, of all people."

"Eh? That's because he slept over."

Which was definitely the wrong thing to say. Canada swore that if France's eyebrows got any higher, they would just fly away.

"Not in that way!" Canada hissed, earning him an angry glare from Germany. They remained quite till the blue eyes shifted back to China before resuming their conversation. They switched their conversation to French.

"I think you two secretly eloped. You act like a married couple." France teased.

"Wait, what? No we didn't! And we don't!" Canada strained. He remembered what Gilbert said last night (technically, this morning) and went pink.

"Ohohoho, there's something isn't there ~"

Canada tried to give an angry glare, but France's eyes twinkled.

"We're just friends. And he was wasted last night, so he crashed at my place."

"I know, I was the one who dropped him off. He _insisted _that he be dropped off at your place, when mine was closer."

Canada tried to think of all the polite ways to point out that France was probably the last person who people would want to stay over with when their decision-making abilities were impaired. His mind couldn't think of any.

"I wouldn't tell England or America if I were you, though. Those two thickheads won't take it very well."

"There's nothing to tell them about!" Canada protested. "And why would I be the wife, eh?"

"Ofcourse there isn't." France smirked, choosing not to answer the second question.

Canada looked away, exasperated. His eyes rested on Prussia, who was doodling on his paper, looking bored. The older nation caught his eye, and grinned, holding up his doodle. Canada squinted, and saw that the ever mature nation had drawn a monster version of Gilbird eating Kumajirou. Canada rolled his eyes as Germany hit Prussia on the back of his head with his hand.

* * *

"I think my brain went numb." Gilbert groaned, as they waited for the elevator.

Matthew said nothing, still mulling over the conversation he and Francis had. Did they really act like a married couple? Matthew didn't think so. Yeah, he cooked and cleaned for him, and Gilbert slept over sometimes, but it was completely platonic, wasn't it? He was pretty sure married couples didn't go out and get trashed at bars, or bake hash brownies, or get kicked out of stores for being a nuisance (that was mostly Gilbert's fault, but still. )

Alright, there were moments when Matthew thought the older nation was rather attractive but that didn't mean they weren't platonic, right? Chicks told each other they were hot all the time, so he could think the same too right?

"Earth to Mat_thew_!" Gilbert poked him.

"Sorry Gilbert, I wasn't listening. What?"

"What floor was the lunch room again?"

"Um, 10th I think."

They stepped into the elevator, Matthew falling back into his thoughts.

Yes, he thought. It was definitely platonic, and it was only due to Francis' influence that he was thinking like this. Maybe next time he'd sit next to someone who didn't (claim to) ooze _l'amour._

* * *

**Canada French and France French are slightly different, that's why I didn't bother translating it the conversation .( I can totally imagine Francis beating on Canada for his french) ****My french is not that strong anymore, so I can't really speak it, just understand it for the most part. **

**I think Canada would be a guy that would be cool once you actually got to know him.**

**I wanted to write out accents in this story (they vill talk like dis) but I think I'd fuck it up. Speaking of accents, anyone else find the English dub of Hetalia hilarious? I laughed so heard when I heard them, especially the Italies' accents. Can you imagine writing a sex scene or something with that accent.**

**"I want-a you to go-a harder, Germany"**

**JUST IMAGINE**

**Reviews would be lovelovelove**


	3. While They Were Gone

Matthew and Gilbert stepped back into the elevator. They had found out they were on the wrong floor for lunch when they had walked into a conference room instead of a cafeteria.

"Well that was a tiny bit... awkward?" Matthew offered, wondering if he hit his head hard enough against the metal wall of the elevator, he would be able to forget what he saw.

"Beyond." Gilbert said, making a face.

And they both agreed for the sake of their own sanity, not to mention safety, that they would never talk about this again. Not that walking in on Alfred and Ivan going at it on top of the conference table in a very creative way was something they'd ever want to relive anyways.

* * *

**My favourite Russia pairing is actually Ivan/Raivas. Raivis totally tops, because he shakes so much (therefore making a good vibrator)**

**Just saying**


	4. Gilbo the Wife

Matthew leaned back against the bench. The sun shining through the leaves left on the tree felt rather nice in the crisp fall weather and the warmth combined with lack of sleep was making him feel really lazy. It helped that his polar bear had decided not to accompany him to the meeting, and he didn't after have to run around after him.

After the meeting, he and Gilbert had decided to bum around the nearby park. They were sitting on an old wooden bench under a red maple tree after Gilbert had intimidated some ten year olds into getting off. The kids had left a half-full bag of oatmeal cookies behind, and Gilbert refused to let Matthew return it. Matthew felt sorry for the kids, who were too intimidated by Gilbert's red eyes to stand up for themselves. They sat in silence, eating as Gilbird flapped around them, clearly straining at the exercise.

"Aww, fatty." Gilbert cooed, as Gilbird finally gave up and settled on his head. Gilbert bit off a bit of his current cookie and offered it to the bird.

"Your bird really needs to go on a diet." Matthew pointed out, as Gilbird chirped indignantly.

"Mattie, you've got to learn that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes~"

Matthew rolled his eyes, taking out another cookie from the bag sitting in between them.

"He's a bird, Gilbird- I mean, Gilbert. I think you should at least attempt to keep him _healthy_. "

"Gilbird's fine," Gilbert said as he shoved a couple of cookies into his mouth."It's just he has so much awesome, that he needs to store it somewhere. "

"Lame."

"Awesome." Gilbert corrected through a mouthful of cookies, crumbs spraying everywhere.

Matthew shook his head and looked at the row of trees lining the park trail in front of them. The leaves were various shades of red, yellow, and orange, and the sun reflected off them rather nicely. He rather liked fall; all the colours were so vibrant and the weather was a pleasant interlude before winter.

"Maybe we should go for a walk... This place is really pretty." He suggested. Gilbert snorted.

"Just let me get the picnic basket and my sun hat first, dear."

Matthew chuckled, brushing the crumbs off his lap.

"Alright Grandma, whenever you're ready."

Gilbert lightly swatted the back of his head and grinned lazily.

"Speaking of grandmas, I saw you and Francis having a pretty intense conversation during the meeting. What was that about?"

Francis had continued to pester Matthew throughout the meeting, much to Matthew's annoyance.

"He wouldn't stop bothering about how we secretly got married or something." Matthew sighed.

Gilbert frowned.

"Why would he say that?"

"He said we act like we're it. He said that I'm like your wife, because I cook and clean for you. "

Gilbert chuckled and slung his arm over the bench behind Matthew.

"No, I think I'd be the wife."

Matthew choked on his cookie.

"Eh? What? Why?"

"Why so surprised? Do _you_ want to be the wife?" Gilbert smirked and Matthew felt himself turn slightly pink, but hid it by rolling his eyes again.

"I thought the amazing Gilbert was too manly to be a wife. Don't I do all the work anyways?"

"Well I'm more commanding and in control. And everyone knows the wife has the husband by the balls. "

Matthew just stared.

"I mean, look at Roderich and Elizaveta," Gilbert continued. "Roderich's the man, but he's obviously Elizaveta's bitch."

Matthew thought in silence for a moment.

"You have a point." he admitted, grudgingly.

"Of course I do. The wife wins all the arguments. "

Gilbird chirped, attempting once again to get off Gilbert's head and fly around.

"Isn't the wife the one that has the kids?" Matthew said after a while. "So that would mean you would have to be the bottom if you were a wife, eh?"

Gilbert made a face.

"Matthew, we're men. And men don't get pregnant, no matter what Kiku and Elizaveta like to believe. And even if we could, I would never be the bottom. Not with my 5 meters. "

"A wife with 5 meters?" Matthew asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A mighty fine five meters."

Matthew opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to press the matter, and bit down on another cookie instead.


	5. Wait, What?

It had been a few weeks since the conversation Matthew had with Francis. It had been pushed to the back of Matthew's mind, and he hadn't thought about it much after that day.

Oh, how he would have _loved_ to say that was true.

In reality, what Francis had said got been stuck in Matthews brain, and it had started to grow like a parasite. He found himself often thinking about what he had said. Like right now, while he was watching some boring reality show on television in his living room. It was another one of those shows about someone with too many kids, and his mind started to wander back to the meeting.

The older man had not stopped bothering Matthew about it throughout the meeting, listing off the ways that it was obvious Matthew and Gilbert had something going on. Matthew had managed to counter almost every one of them, but Francis was persistent. When they parted ways,

"_Ne nie pas, Mathieu,_ _Tu es tombe amoreux d'il._"

"E-excuse me!" Matthew sputtered. "I am not falling in love with...him!"

"Do not deny love, _cher._"

And with that, Francis gave him a wink and went off to bother Arthur, leaving Matthew just standing there as people ghosted by him and wondering if Francis' old age was really catching up to him.

He was not in love with the man who came at all sorts of odd hours, demanding pancakes and syrup. He was not in love with the man who had tried to feed his polar bear some "special" brownies. He was _definitely_ not in love with the man that had got them arrested last week, when they were drunk and he had suggested that streaking across the highway would be a good idea.

Francis was just being his usual, love-obsessed self. He was definitely reading too deep into the situation.

Right?

What valid reasons had Francis come up with anyways?

_"He remembers you."_

That's because if he didn't, he wouldn't be getting any pancakes.

Alright, maybe Canada was a bit (or a lot) on the forgettable side, but Gilbert wasn't the only one who remembered him. Francis remembered him, and so did Alfred. Ivan remembered him, since they occasionally played hockey together. Ukraine, Netherlands, and Cuba also remembered him. Well, Cuba still sometimes mistook him for Alfred and tried to beat him up, but he ended up remembering eventually. And that's what counts right?

_"You two are inseparable."_

Okay, they hung out a lot, Matthew admitted to himself. Gilbert also slept over, usually whenever his brother kicked him out. Which happened regularly.

But that's what friends do. And it wasn't like Gilbert was the only person he was ever with. Yesterday, he had gone to get ice cream with Cuba! Alright, maybe Gilbert tagged along, but that didn't count. And then he and Alfred went to see a movie recently. Wait, Gilbert was there too, arguing loudly with Alfred over the movie as Matthew sat there hoping that no one associated him with the two childish men.

Even if he couldn't think of anyone now, he knew he hung out with people that weren't Gilbert.

_"I see the look on your face when you see him. And when you stare at him."_

That comment had made Matthew go red whenever he thought about it. He definitely didn't get a "look" on his face whenever he saw his friend. Getting "looks" were for people in love, and he was _not_ in love with Gilbert.

Plus, when did he ever stare at Gilbert? Sure, he zoned out, looking in the general direction of the albino but that technically wasn't _staring_. The only time he stared at Gilbert was when Gilbert was prancing around shirtless in his kitchen, pretending to be a matador and waving his shirt in front of Kumajirou. But Matthew wasn't staring because Gilbert was shirtless and actually really well built- he was just staring at his friends general weirdness. Yup.

_"He's ditched drinking with me and Antonio to go drinking with you."_

That was easily explained. Matthew had won a drinking contest between the two once, and Gilbert had swore that he would get revenge. This lead to many nights, spent at either bars or on the couch, getting completely hammered to the point where they would have to call it a tie. That was, in no way, romantic. Even if Gilbert, who was usually a freeloader, insisted on paying for all the drinks. No, that was just Gilbert paying Matthew back for always emptying his fridge whenever he came over.

Honestly, he didn't see how Francis thought any of this was an indicator of, well, _anything_. He and Gilbert were just really good friends. That happened to spend a lot of time together. And did a lot of crazy things together. And were now able to finish each other's sentences for each other. But that didn't mean anything. It was just one of those things that happened.

Matthew shook his head as he focused back on the television. He shouldn't really let it get to him, because whatever Francis said was obviously not all it meant. All his reasons sucked.

Even that last one. What was it?

_"And when he _is_ with us, you're his favourite topic. It's always "Mattie this," and "Mattie that," . In fact, I'm sure when it comes to talking about others, he could give Antonio a run for his money."_

But now, the more Matthew thought about it, the less insane Francis' thoughts were. This led him to wonder if he himself was going insane.

* * *

* "_Ne nie pas, Mathieu. " = Do not deny, you're falling in love with him. _**  
**


	6. Hero's Help

Matthew stirred as he heard someone banging on his door. He blinked. What time was it? He looked at his watch, and saw that it was 8 P.M. He had fallen asleep on his couch while watching T.V and had slept through the whole afternoon.

He slowly pushed himself off the couch, and made his way towards the door. Whoever was knocking on the door seemed to be on the verge of breaking it down. Probably Gilbert.

Gilbert.

Matthew turned a faint pink, before shaking his head. He had already established, before dozing off, that there was nothing between him and the other man.

"I'm coming!" He yelled. Or raised his voice, because unless he was playing hockey, he generally didn't like to yell. That was his brother's job. "Don't break down the door!"

The knocking ceased as Matthew undid the bolt and opened the door.

"Gilbert, I told you-" He stopped for two reasons. First, because the person at the door had tackled him into a big bear hug, and second, the person at the door was _not_ Gilbert. Thankfully, that person hadn't noticed that Matthew had called him by the wrong name.

"Mattie!"

The hug was crushing him. Absolutely crushing him.

"Alfred! I n-need air!" Matthew choked.

Alfred loosened his grip, but didn't let go.

"Long time no see, Mattie!" He grinned, his blue eyes gleaming.

"Yeah, yeah." Matthew pushed him off, but smiled back. "Food?"

Alfred nodded, and ten minutes later they were sitting in Matthew's living room with a large assortment of junk food. Alfred had sprawled out on Matthew's couch with a few boxes of Oreos and a "hero sandwich", while Matthew curled up on the arm chair across the room with a bag of chips. Every time his brother came over, they had a tendency to completely pig out.

"So, what brings you here?"

Alfred gave a muffled response through a mouthful of sandwich. Matthew gave him a confused look and he swallowed and repeated himself.

"It's been forever since I've seen you. Things have been so busy lately."

"So you're actually doing work now?" Matthew said, laughing as Alfred pouted and threw an Oreo at him. The Oreo bounced off Matthew's forehead and landed in his lap. He picked it up and fed it to Kumajirou, who was sitting at his feet. The polar bear happily took it.

"Isn't that unhealthy for your dog?"

Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Kumakiku is not a _dog_, Alfred, he's a polar bear."

"Same shit." Alfred shrugged.

"He never has a problem with anything I give him."

Kumajirou looked up at him.

"Who?"

"Ca-na-da. The one who just fed you." Matthew was too used to this to be irritated by it anymore.

They sat, chatting idly about things like the outcome of the latest season of The Bachelorette and Arthur's latest fight with Francis over something silly as usual. Matthew was in the middle of telling Alfred about Arthur's attempt to spike Francis' wine and turn him into a frog, when his brother interrupted.

"Speaking of Francis, I had a talk with him the other day."

Matthew stopped mid-sentence.

"You did?"

"Yeah, and he told me something rather interesting about you."

Matthew bit his lip.

"R-really? What did he say?"

Alfred rolled over onto his belly, and smirked at Matthew. Matthew resisted the urge to point out how much he looked like a certain cross-dressing Polish man right now.

"He told me something rather interesting." Alfred repeated.

Matthew did not like the look on Alfred's face. Not at all. He looked away from Alfred as he fought back a blush.

"He told me," Alfred continued. "That you were in _love._"

Matthew tried to tell Alfred that Francis was lying. Matthew _tried_, but all that came out was a small choke.

"And what was more interesting was _who _he said you were in love with. You and Gilbert. Who would have known?"

Alfred was clearly enjoying watching Matthew flounder under his gaze.

"Francis is...being Francis." Matthew sputtered. "He's r-reading too deep into the situation!"

"Really?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Because the way he told me, it didn't _sound _like he was. It seemed rather obvious actually, and that's something, coming from me."

Matthew shot Alfred his best glare.

"I am _not _in love with Gilbert!"

Alfred stayed silent for a moment, as if he was contemplating what Matthew said.

"Alright." He said.

"Alright?"

"Yup."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. Alfred, give in this easily?

"What do you mean _alright_?"

"I mean I believe you."

"So easily?"

Alfred flashed him a big smile.

"Yup. Besides, if you were in love with the bastard, I would have to express my pointed disapproval and you two couldn't be together."

"Wait, what? You can't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Have a say over who I'm in love with!" Matthew cried out without thinking.

Alfred had such a huge grin on his face, Matthew was reminded of one of those silly cartoon characters. Spongebob?

"A-ha! So you _do_ like him!"

Alfred threw his fist up in victory, and Matthew realized what he had done.

"Alfred!" He strained. "You tricked me! That was not fair!"

"But you _admitted _it. You're in love with Giilberrrrttt ~" Alfred sang.

Matthew was bright red. What had he just done? No, but it was _Alfred's _fault!

"And you're not even denying it."

Matthew bit his lip and looked down at the floor. If he could get words out of his throat, he would deny it. He really would! But his embarrassment was shoving his protests right back down his throat. And maybe truth.

"Matthew."

He looked up wearily at Alfred, who was now sitting upright on the couch.

"Don't worry, bro. I won't tell anyone."

"You won't?"

"I'll try."

Matthew said nothing, still processing what had just happened. Had he just admitted he loved _Gilbert_? To his _brother_?

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

"About what?"

Alfred leaned forward, and pulled his face into a look of utmost concentration.

"Hmm...I don't know. Maybe something tall...pale...creepy...with red eyes?"

It was Matthew's turn to throw something at Alfred. He chucked the cushion from his armchair at his brother.

"Mat_tie_! Are you PMSing again? I'm trying to help!" Alfred laughed, deflecting the cushion with his arm.

"I don't need help!" Matthew said, pouting.

"Please, as if. If you never get any help, you and the creep are going to stay 'just friends' forever, and you'll be all angry because you never got laid. And this hero can't let his brother live the rest of his life sex-less."

"Alfred!" Matthew flustered, but Alfred threw the cushion back at him and it hit his face. And then Alfred grabbed another cushion from the couch and threw that one too.

"Personally, I think you should just jump him whenever he's over next. But then again, you're just a giant pussy so I think we're going to have to think of something else."

"_Alfred_! I hate you!"

Alfred pulled a mock offended face.

"Hate _me_? The hero that's just trying to help you?"

"I don't need any help." Matthew grumbled, wondering if it would be bad manners if he could chase his brother out of his house with a hockey stick.

"Of course you don't. Because it totally didn't take you forever just to admit your feelings."

He was sure that chasing his brother out like that would be the _most _polite thing he could think of doing right now.

Matthew glared at Alfred.

"Alfred, I'm asking _nicely_, that you please, _please_ not try anything. At all."

Alfred threw his head back and laughed.

"Nice try at intimidation Mattie, but it's not going to work with the hero- Damn."

Matthew had pulled out a large hockey stick, and was off his armchair, advancing towards Alfred. Alfred knew that his usually quiet and peaceful brother could be scary when he wanted to_. _He had seen enough of his hockey games.

Alfred jumped off the couch.

"Mattie, I'd love to stick around and bestow more words of wisdom, but I have stuff to do, so I'm gonna run."

And run he did, with an angry Canadian on his tail. Not that he was scared or anything, because heroes never get scared. Never.


	7. A few drinks and a movie from West

The next time someone knocked on Matthew's door, it was a couple of days after Alfred's visit. This time, it _was_ Gilbert, who had come over with a big grin, a 12-pack and a DVD.

"Hey Mattie! Guess what I found under West's bed!" He exclaimed, waving the DVD around as he stepped into the house and threw off his jacket.

Matthew groaned, all too aware of his friend's brother's secret fetishes. Gilbert had never spared any detail.

"Gilbert, I am _not_ watching porn with you."

"It's not porn! It's a really, really, really gruesome and super awesome horror movie. It's like that movie your brother likes, Saw, except a million times cooler and it doesn't have an emo clown."

Without waiting for approval, Gilbert shoved his way down the hall and into Matthew's living room and dropped the case of beer on the table. Ignoring Matthew's protests, he put the DVD in and plonked down on the couch.

Matthew stood at where the hall and the living room met, his arms crossed.

"Aw Mattie, don't look at me like that. I even brought beer!"

"This isn't another one of your attempts to out-drink me, is it?"

"Pffft, if we were doing that, I wouldn't bring so little. Don't be a killjoy, come sit." Gilbert patted the space beside him. Matthew knew he probably couldn't win (he didn't think he ever _had_) and took a seat beside the albino, who was fiddling with the remote.

"What movie is it?"

"I dunno, I left the DVD case by the T.V. But it's got some weird kid on the cover, and he's got his guts spilling out and everything. It's so awesome."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Typical."

"Ew, you sound like West. Except West wouldn't say that because it's his movie. I wonder why he has it anyways. Who hides a horror movie in their porn stash?"

"Gilbert, shut up." Matthew sighed, reaching for a can of beer.

"Oh, do _you_?"

"Do I what?"

"Hide shit in your porn stash. Because I was looking through it the other day and-"

"I do not hide stuff in my porn stash! I-I don't even have a goddamned porn stash!"

Gilbert laughed, ruffling Matthew's hair, while selecting play on the TV menu.

"I know, I know. You're like Alfred and Kiku, you just look up stuff online. I know you~"

"Shut the fuck up!" Matthew punched Gilbert's arm.

"Kesesesese~" Gilbert chuckled. "What bad language for a young lady like you."

"I'm not a lady." Matthew grumbled and Gilbert just ruffled his hair again and opened a can, as the ominous music of the movie started. A deep voice began the narraration.

The movie was about a boy who had parents who were very religious. He had suffered through psychotic episodes, but his parents believed that he was being possessed by a demon. They tried to get an exorcist in to help the boy, but when the boy didn't get "cured", they tried to torture the "devil" out of the child. The boy tried to run away multiple times but always got caught and the "devil" got punished. In the end, the kid ended up killing the parents and just disappearing into the night.

Matthew didn't want to admit it, but the movie was rather interesting, even if it was downright weird at times. Atleast the acting was good. He would have to pull his hair out if it had the stereotypical screaming princess and dark hero like Alfred's movies.

He watched the screen as people ghosted around the kid, who was now on his third attempt at running away, this time going to a train station.

"Hey look, he's almost as invisible as you!" Gilbert teased. Matthew stuck his tongue out at him.

"I don't need to be reminded about that."

Gilbert patted him on his back.

"Aww, it's okay. You're never invisible to me, _Alfred._"

Matthew choked on his drink, turning red as Gilbert cackled.

"That's so mean, Gilbert!"

"What's so mean~"

"You! I don't need my friend forgetting me, especially one that-" and he stopped himself before he'd say something he'd rather not.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"Especially one that what?"

Matthew bit his lip.

"Nothing."

"Aw Birdie, tell me whaaat." Gilbert prodded him, with a slight frown on his face.

"N-no. It's nothing."

Gilbert continued to look at him as they sat in the suddenly uncomfortable silence, an indescribable expression on his face. Then a moment later he broke into his trademark smirk, as he leaned in to grab his fourth can of beer.

"Ah, don't worry Birdie, I remember you. And I can tell the difference between you and your brother because unlike you, four-eyes, I'm (again) awesome and not blind, therefore I can tell the different between males and females."

Matthew couldnt help bit grin slightly despite the insult.

"Screw you. "

"Kesesesese , anytime darling ~"

Gilbert laughed as Matthew chucked his now empty beer can at his head.

* * *

Gilbert looked at the sleeping man curled up on the other side of the couch. It was only 11, but Matthew had gone out like a light near the end of the movie. The movie wasn't _that _boring (of course not, since Gilbert liked it.) So Matthew was probably just tired from before.

Matthew looked really serene when he slept. His face was expressionless, save for the occasional quirk of the lips. His mouth was slightly open and his shallow breaths slightly lifted up that errant curl of his.

Gilbert vaguely wondered if that curl acted like Feliciano's. Maybe If he just reached out and gave it a small tug and then he could see...

...or not, Gilbert thought, retracting his hand. If it did act like Feli's curl, Matthew would wake up and kill him. As much as Gilbert could totally take on the younger nation, he felt just a tiny bit on the tired side too. He would ask Matthew in the morning.

Matthew shifted slightly in his seat, and Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows. He normally slept on the couch, but now that was going to be hard with the Canadian taking up a good amount of space.

Gilbert didn't really like the bed in the guest room, because it was hard and he didn't really want to accidentally see a reminder what Francis and Arthur did when Matthew's family slept over. Gilbert didn't like to remember about the last time that happened.

He didn't want to take over Matthew's bed either. Sure, it was a nice bed but Matthew wouldn't be too happy if he found himself on the couch and Gilbert in his bedroom.

Gilbert let out a small sigh and scratched his ear. Only one thing left to do then. He would carry Matthew up to his room. Which was no easy task, as the nation was almost as tall as him, give a few centimetres here or there. Gilbert got up and made his way towards the other end of the couch, and stood looming over Matthew.

He frowned as he looked at Matthew. How the hell was he going to pick him up? He couldn't just sling him over his shoulders, because that would wake the man up. He couldn't carry him on his back either, because then getting him off and onto the bed would be a bitch. The simplest thing would probably be just to scoop him up in his arms and take him.

Was it just him, or did that seem a little dirty?

A stupid, unawesome, totally misdirected blush was crept up his face. Like most people do in these situations, he just pinned the blame on knowing Francis for too long. Yeah. He could practically hear the other nation chuckling in the back of his mind. He pushed it out of his head. Or atleast tried to.

He bent down and slid his arms under the blonde, one under his upper back and one under his legs. With a grunt, he picked up Matthew.

"Shit." He was actually kinda heavy. But Gilbert was too awesome to be phased by a tiny bit of weight. Matthew's head lolled to the side and his arms fell to the side as the younger nation muttered something in his sleep. Gilbert could smell traces of beer and pancakes on him, and Gilbert was _definitely _not rather liking the smell. Definitely not.

Gilbert walked slowly towards the staircase, trying not to trip over anything. He wasn't drunk, but he had still had a decent amount of alcohol. Enough to make him just a bit tipsy.

When he got to the base of the staircase, Matthew stirred.

"Gilbert?" He murmured, head heavy with sleep.

"I'm just carrying you up to bed, Birdie." Gilbert said quietly, not knowing if the Canadian was fully awake.

Apparently not, because Matthew a moment later hummed and lazily slung arms around Gilbert's neck so it would be easier to carry him. He carefully made his way up the stairs, thankful that the bedroom wasn't that far away. He toed open the door and grimaced at the cold air that greeted him. Matthew never really bothered turning on the upstairs heating, since he was generally the only one who went up there and rather liked the cold. Even in the goddamned middle of winter.

He dropped him down gently on the bed, then let out a breath of relief. That was harder than he thought it would be. He better be getting some damn good pancakes in the morning. Well he always did, but for this he deserved around 20 extra.

He rubbed the back of his head as Matthew rolled over, facing away from him. He was pretty tired, and the cold air made the warm, soft bed look really inviting. Especially that red quilt with white maple leaves all over it. Right now, the couch in the living room seemed way too far away, and Gilbert rather liked the bed. Surely, Matthew wouldn't mind if he slid into bed with him. The thing was fucking huge anyways, and Gilbert chose to ignore the fact that last time he shared a bed with Matthew, he had hogged the entire bed, leaving the blonde only a quarter of the bed to sleep on. Whatever. If that happened, Matthew could deal.

Gilbert shrugged out of his jeans, staying in his boxers and t-shirt. It was cold in the room, but he hated the constricting jeans.

He slid into the bed, facing Matthew. The bed was pretty damn soft and warm, just like the quilt he pulled over the both of them. And probably the Canadian beside him.

Gilbert bit the inside of his cheek. Alright, so maybe he had a tiny affinity towards things that were cute. That's why he liked Gilbird and Kumajirou and the army of cats that Greece always had following him around. Maybe his friend just sorta fell into the same category. Just maybe.

Matthew rolled over, facing Gilbert, still sleeping. Gilbert realized he still had his glasses on, so he took them off, placing them by his bedside table. Shit, the kid _was _kinda adorable, looking like this. He would admit this much to himself.

Suddenly, the bed seemed a tiny bit colder, and Matthew seemed a little bit warmer. Gilbert mentally kicked himself. Those were pansy thoughts, and pansy thoughts were not awesome.

Buuut, Matthew was probably cold too right? No one could stand the room that was like below fucking zero all the time. And an awesome guy like him couldn't let a friend be cold. And Matthew was a serial-cuddler, since he always had that big white polar bear with him. For goodness sake, he looked like he was trying to cuddle the air right now. So if he woke up, Gilbert could just pin the blame on him.

Yeah. That could work.

Gilbert scooted closer to Matthew. Goddamnit, he felt like a pansy.

_Awesome people don't let their friends get cold._

No, they didn't. And since he was awesome, he wouldn't either.

He raised and arm and carefully placed it around Matthew.

"Kumakiju.." He heard Matthew mumble in his sleep, and tensed up. The blonde automatically wrapped his arms around Gilbert and pulled into him.

Damn.

* * *

Matthew opened his right eye a tiny crack, and nearly had a heart attack. Yes, he was used to Gilbert sharing the bed with him. No, he wasn't used to waking up in a tight embrace within the other man's arms. His arms were around him too. So that was what he had been holding on to in his sleep. He opened his other eye and confirmed that yes, this was Gilbert. He couldn't really move. Well, yeah, he could, but maybe he just sorta didn't want to because this was rather nice and he was really warm and it was Gilbert and...

Fuck it.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax back into sleep. He'd pretend he didn't wake up. Or slightly nuzzle into Gilbert's chest.

* * *

**A/N:**

******The "blame Francis" tidbit is in loving jest of just about every romantic hetalia fanfic ever. Oh France, your influence spreads too far ~**

**First person to guess where I got the "emo clown" about Jigsaw from Saw reference, wins a cookie. The movie Mattbert were watching exists only in my imagination. And nations have incredibly high alcohol tolerance.**


	8. Family Time

Gilbert never really minded Matthew's taste in music. It was diverse, and some of his stuff was actually pretty cool. No, he didn't mind.

Except for when it was blasting at three a.m in the morning out of the tinny speakers of Matthew's Blackberry. Who the _fuck _decided that '80s power metal would make a good ringtone?

Whoever was calling was pretty damn persistent. Matthew was slowly stirring, but Gilbert was wide awake because of that stupid cellphone.

The phone was on Matthew's bedside table, which was on the side Gilbert was sleeping on. He figured he'd might as well pick it up, tell whoever it was to fuck off, and go back to sleep and dream his awesome dream where he and Gilbird had taken over the world.

He pried himself loose from Matthew's arms so that if the other woke up, he wouldn't know anything. Not like they were doing any pansy shit like cuddling or anything, Gilbert just didn't want any awkward questions. He rolled over and picked up the offending phone, looking at the caller ID.

"Who is it?" came Matthew's sleepy voice. Gilbert chose to ignore it, hitting the talk button.

".._.Bonjour_?" came a rather familiar, airy voice from the other end.

"Francis." Gilbert grinned. "What's up?"

_"Gilbert, is that you?"_

"Thanks for hiding your disappointment. Of course it's the awesome me. "

Matthew was now half awake and propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Gilbert who was still lying down.

_"Ah, sorry, I thought I had dialled Mathieu's number. "_

Matthew reached out for his phone but Gilbert swatted his hand away.

"You did."

_"So why did you pick up?"_

"Because his ringtone's fucking annoying. And I can't stand his phone buzzing on his bedside table like some broken vibrator or some shit. "

There was silence on the other end, and then-

_"Why are you in his bed at 3am in the morning?"_

Few people had the ability to have their smirk felt across the phone, even with strangers. Francis was one of them.

"Oh you know, the regular." Gilbert said nonchalantly, giving Matthew a wide grin.

_"Ohohohoho,"_ Francis gave a chuckle. _"The _regular_?"_

Gilbert ignored the warning glare Matthew, who was now fully awake, gave him.

"Yeee-up. The regular. You know, just screwing the brains out of your old colony. "

"Gilbert! No!" Matthew squawked, lunging for the phone as Francis laughed on the other end, his face completely red.

"Matthew! _Yes!_" Gilbert mocked, giving a fake moan and a cackle as he blocked Matthew, with one arm pushing his face and the other holding the phone out of Matthews reach. On the other end of the line, there was one voice laughing and another sputtering and cursing.

Matthew drove his elbow into Gilbert's stomach, knocking the breath out of the other and distracting him long enough for Matthew to stretch and swipe the phone.

"Hello? Papa?"

"_Mathieu? Was this a bad time?"_

"Don't listen to what Gilbert said, he was just being stupid." Matthew sighed, sitting up. A disgruntled Gilbert sat up too, not too happy at being winded.

_"Ah, but it would have been so_nice_if it was-"_

"Papa!" Matthew became even redder, to the point where he could rival his flag. Gilbert tried to take the phone from Matthew but Matthew flicked him on the nose, the impact making him sneeze.

_"Sorry Mathieu, but given he's in your bed at such an hour and how I know you feel- don't you try that denial thing with me, Mathieu, I know you, and stop stuttering."_

"_Papa_! I told you, we weren't doing anything!"

_"Ah, then why is he in your bed at this hour?"_

Gilbert listened as the conversation rapidly dropped into French. Not that he didn't know any, it had just been a long time since he had used it, so he couldn't keep up with the speed ofthe conversation.

And this definitely bored him.

But this was also a really, really good time to figure out if Matthew's curl was special. He was so distracted with his argument with Francis, that he wouldn't notice when Gilbert's hand started to move towards him. However, Matthew caught Gilbert from the corner of his eye and used his free hand to grab Gilbert's hand in a vice-like grip, effectively ruining Gilbert's plan, leaving the silver-haired man to pout. Not awesome.

"Matthew, ask your old man what he wants. I'm _tired_ and I can't sleep with you talking so loudly."

"Be _patient._"

"No." Gilbert stuck his tongue out, trying to pry his hand away. Rolling his eyes, but not letting go of Gilbert, Matthew went back to his conversation with Francis.

_"Ah well, you see, I called you because Arthur and I have run into some trouble."_

"What trouble?"

_"Well you see, Arthur and I were driving, and we pulled off to a side road for... ah..."_Matthew heard a muffled insult, and a thump._"...do some stargazing. And the car sort of...the engine melted and... Arthur insists on getting help right now instead of just sleeping in the car for the night and getting help in the morning. It's not too far from where you live, so we were wondering if you could pick us up."_

Matthew let go of Gilbert's hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He really didn't want to do this, but he felt that it was his duty. Even if his two "fathers" didn't always remember who he was.

"Sure." He said, reaching over Gilbert to his bedside table to grab a pen and paper. "Where are you guys?"

Francis gave him the locations and directions. This time, while Matthew was writing, he didn't notice the pale hand creeping toward his hair.

" Alright Francis I'll be there in- ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Matthew groaned. He felt himself go slightly limp as Gilbert wrapped his hand around his curl and gave it a small tug. He saw his red eyes glinting. He grabbed onto Gilbert's wrist to pull him away, but Gilbert held onto the curl, resulting in it getting tugged harder.

_"Mathieu? Is everything ok?"_

Matthew could feel his face heating up, and bit his lip hard so that he wouldn't make any obscene noise. He could feel blood draw out.

"I'm sorry Francis," Matthew replied shakily, trying his best to keep his composure as Gilbert continued to torture him, still holding his phone by his ear. "Gilbert just- ahhhhhhhhhhhh _fuck _Gil, don't do that!"

_"...Are you sure we didn't interrupt anything?"_

"N-nh..ohh...no" Yes, Gilbert was definitely enjoying watching Matthew squirm. Matthew's head had started to swim, everything becoming hazy.

"Kesesese, it's just like Feliciano's~" Gilbert sang, not relinquishing his grip. "West plays with it every time when they-"

_"Prussia!"_

This time, it was a _very_ angry voice that called Gilbert. An agitated Arthur was now on the line, and he was loud enough to be heard without the phone being put on speaker. Matthew winced, partly because of the volume, and partly because Gilbert was _just not letting go of the goddamn curl!_

"Hey old man!" Gilbert chirped brightly, grabbing the phone from Matthew. "Guess what I'm doing? No, actually, guess _who _I'm doing!"

_"Get your hands off the lad!_" Arthur screeched. _"Or else!"_

"Oh no, you're not going to set your fairies on me, are you Arthur?"

_"Wh-What? Shut up you bloody git! Don't molest Matthew!"_

"No need to be such a mood killer Artie- mmph!"

Matthew had managed to get enough strength to grab a pillow and shove it into Gilbert's face, making the older man let go of his hair. His breath was coming out in short pants as he held the pillow in Gilbert's face long enough for him to pry the phone from his flailing hands.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." He said, taking a deep breath, trying to return to a normal heart rate. "It's not what it sounded like."

"_I hope it's not. I don't want that bloody git's hands all over you like a fucking rapist."_

"Arthur..." Matthew trailed off, aiming a swift punch at Gilbert's chest as the silver-haired man tried to move in for the kill again.

"Aw Mattie, don't deny you couldn't resist the awesome me and finally gave in to my charm~"

Matthew shoved Gilbert completely off the bed, satisfied with the thud he heard as his friend fell to the floor.

"Sorry about that Arthur. Er, I'll be there in an hour. No, no, don't worry about me. No, Gilbert isn't going to do anything anymore. "

In a temporary memory lapse as to why he was supposed to be on guard, Matthew rubbed his forehead with his free hand. He didn't notice that Gilbert had climbed back onto the bed behind Matthew while he was talking to Arthur, and didn't feel his stare as the other hovered over him, with an evil grin on his face. Gilbert loved revenge.

"Yes, I'll see you there. Bye Arthur."

Matthew hung up, and at the right time because Arthur would have surely shown no restraint in killing Gilbert for the loud, sharp gasp that escaped Matthew as Gilbert draped himself over his back and grabbed his curl, wrapping his tongue around it.

* * *

Some coffee, a lot of Red Bull, and a very, very cold shower later, Matthew was driving down an empty country road in his red pickup, with Gilbert in tow.

"I still don't see why you're mad at me." Gilbert pouted from the backseat. " I didn't do anything _wrong_, I just wanted to see if that curl was speciaaaal."

"Did you have to touch it like that!" Matthew fumed. "It's not very...nice!"

Alright, it _was_ very nice. But he couldn't help if it if that was just how things worked with that stupid curl of his.

" I was curious!" Gilbert whined.

"You...you licked it, Gilbert! That was just cruel!"

"No it wasn't! You _liked _it!"

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, except it was the truth. No it wasn't because it was Gilbert, it was because _anyone_ would have that reaction to something like that! If Matthew could cut off the curl, he would.

"Anyways," Gilbert continued. "I had it worse! You didn't have to fucking elbow me in the nuts so fucking hard!"

Matthew grumbled, and changed the subject.

"Why did you come with me ?" he asked, keeping his eye out for the sign which indicated the hidden road that Francis and Arthur had pulled off onto. "And why did you insist to sit in the back?"

"Because you and I know that as soon as Eyebrows and Francis get in the back seat they're gonna start going at it. And being the amazing friend I am, I decided you should not face such a traumatic experience, therefore coming with you and sitting in the back. Therefore, killing their mood like they killed ours."

Matthew rolled his eyes.

"There was no mood to kill. And I'm touched by your friendship. "

"Who else would come with you to pick up two horny old geezers who are probably fucking in the backseat of their car as we speak?"

" Ew, Gilbert. Stop before you put any mental images in my head."

"Kesesesesese~"

They pulled onto a road which was patchily lined with trees and the pavement was slowly crumbling away into dirt, looking for the car that Francis had described. They drove for a good 15 minutes on the long dirt road till they found it.

"Hey, there's their car!" Gilbert pointed out to a black Audi shining in the moonlight and...

And...

Oh fuck.

When they stopped ten feet away from the car, Matthew closed his eyes and hit his head against the steering wheel while Gilbert roared with laughter.

"What did I tell you Mattie! What did I tell you!"

"Shut uppppppp" Matthew groaned, trying to mentally bleach his brain. It's not like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them before (but technically, did this count? All they saw was the rocking car) but every time he did, it still felt like a little part of him died on the inside. He took his phone out of his pocket and gave it to Gilbert.

"You call them. I don't think I can."

Gilbert took the phone and dialed Francis' number. After what seemed like too long, he picked up.

_"H-hello?"_ The voice was a low pant.

"I see London, I see France! And they aren't wearing underpants!"

Gilbert was thoroughly entertained by his own lame rhyme and started laughing before Francis could reply. Matthew, who was running on low sleep, too much caffeine, and a lot of frustration, found the laugh both extremely stupid and extremely infectious. Soon both of the men were doubled over in their seats, laughing like maniacs.

They were still wiping away tears of laughter when 5 minutes later, there was a tap on the window. Gilbert opened the door to the back, pulling Arthur in and closing it before Francis could get in. Matthew reached over and opened the passenger door and Francis slid into the front seat

"Sorry Artie, can't have you and Francis ruining the backseat of Mattie's car." Gilbert said happily, earning a smack from the other man. "Aw, why so mad? You didn't like my song?"

Arthur grumbled something, and Francis chuckled.

"See, _Francis _liked it!"

"That bloody frog likes anything."

"As do you, _mon cher_" Francis said, wiggling his eyebrows in the rearview mirror. Matthew made a slight gagging sound, and Gilbert burst into another round of loud laughter as he pulled Arthur back, preventing him from reaching over and strangling Francis.

* * *

They reached Francis' house at around 5:30 in the morning. Since it was winter, it was still dark out. Matthew was glad that he had today off from any work, because he was sure as soon as he got home, he'd pass out.

Gilbert and Arthur had spent the whole car ride arguing, and Francis used that as an opportunity to bother Matthew in French about Gilbert. All in all, Matthew had a big headache, and wanted to just go home and sleep.

"Gilbert," Francis said, as they pulled into their driveway. "You forgot your jacket at my place from the last time you came over. I think now would be a good time to take it?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Matthew watched the three men retreat into the house, and leaned his head back against the head rest. Surely it wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a moment. Just a moment.


	9. A Little Chat

"Your jacket is in the front closet. I'm making some tea, would you like some? Or maybe some coffee for the drive back?" Francis said, making his way to the kitchen.

"Nah, don't need any. I'm not driving." Gilbert said, rummaging through the closet at the entrance of Francis' enormous house.

Gilbert pulled out his coat and shook off the dust. He closed the closet door, and came face to face with Arthur, who was blocking the doorway with his arms crossed, looking none too pleased. Gilbert made a move towards the door but Arthur stepped forward. Gilbert didn't like the look on his face.

"Artie, I can't walk through walls. Well I could, but Francis would kill me. Get out of the way."

"Drawing room." The slightly shorter man said, green eyes glaring.

"Ehm, I'd love to stay and grace you with my awesomeness but Mattie's waiting in the car and..." Gilbert trailed off, looking uncomfortably at Arthur. Everyone always underestimated how intimidating the man was when he wanted to be.

"Prussia. Now. "

Gilbert winced at the use of his formal name. He turned on his heel and went towards the drawing room, feeling Arthur's furious gaze on his back the entire time, wondering what he had done to deserve it. He stood awkwardly at the doorway of the room until he felt a hard prod from Arthur. He sat on a black leather armchair by the window, as far away from Arthur as he could manage, which unfortunately was not far as Arthur decided to sit in the love seat directly across from him. Arthur just sat there giving him an evil eye, and Gilbert who had no idea what was going on, just gave his best insolent look.

"Arthur?" came Francis' voice.

"In here."

Francis came in carrying a silver tray with two ornate cups. Setting it down on the mahogany table in between the two, his eyes darted between Arthur and Gilbert. The awkward tension in the air was thick.

"Er... Should I get Mathieu?"

"Ye-"

"No." Arthur cut off, his voice curt.

Francis glanced at the two and then took a seat beside Arthur. He took his own cup, but Arthur didn't touch his. A few minutes of silence and Gilbert got fed up.

"Well, I'd love to stay but-"

"Shut up."

Gilbert gave a frustrated sigh.

"Then talk, goddamnit! Don't stare at me like you're fucking Russia or something. "

"What are you doing with Matthew?" Arthur asked briskly.

Gilbert frowned, while Francis internally cringed. Arthur was going to play the protective parent, which never turned out well.

"What do you mean what am I doing with Matthew?"

"You know bloody well what I mean!"

France placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"_Cher_, don't you think you're-"

"Don't tell me I'm over-reacting! You heard them over the phone!"

"But they were just fooling around, _non_?" Francis shot Gilbert a look, indicating that the man shouldn't say anything stupid.

"The hell they were!"

"Wow, are you on your period or something Artie?"

Obviously, Gilbert had been too dense to pick up on the look. Arthur gave a menacing growl.

"I will not have you violating my colony!"

"_Ex_-colony." Gilbert corrected. "Plus, I'm not violating him, we're friends."

Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"And?"

"That means whatever I do to him is a-okay." Gilbert smirked, then yelped as Arthur lunged towards him. "Shit!"

Francis grabbed onto Arthur and pulled him back onto the couch.

"_Arthur!_" he scolded, as Gilbert grimaced. "What has gotten into you!"

"Matthew can't be with that bloody wanker! He's too-"

This time it was Gilbert who cut in.

"What the fuck are you getting your panties in a bunch for? Matthew can hang out with me if he wants too!"

Francis blinked and understood. Arthur and Gilbert were talking about two totally different things without realizing it. Gilbert was talking about friendship while Arthur was talking about something more. Which definitely did not make this conversation any better.

"Francis! Talk to him!"

Francis raised an eyebrow.

"If Mathieu wants to be _friends_," he added an emphasis to hint at Arthur what Gilbert was talking about. "I do not see what the problem is."

Arthur didn't pick it up. France silently cursed at his misfortune of being put in the same room as the two thick headed and hot-tempered men.

"Not see the problem? _Not see the goddamned problem?_ The problem is this!" Arthur raised a finger, pointing at Gilbert, who raised his own middle finger in return. "This is _Prussia_ we're talking about!"

"That's just what it makes it good! I'm the awesome Prussia, therefore Matthew should be honoured. Hell, _you_ should be honoured."

Arthur turned to Francis.

"What do you think? He's rude, crude and a belligerent drunk! Don't you have anything to say?"

"Well, those qualities sound very familiar." Francis said, giving a pointed look to Arthur.

"I knew you I couldn't count on you, you bloody frog." Arthur scoffed. Francis just rolled his eyes at his childishness.

"I don't know why you've got such a big stick up your ass anyways, Arthur." Gilbert scowled. "You're acting as if you're his fucking father or something."

"I might as well be!"

"Yeah? Is that why you don't remember his name? Or mistake him for his brother all the time? And you even forget his country name sometimes. Honestly Arthur, I don't think you're the one that should be talking." Gilbert's voice was rising, and had started sounding defensive. "So I don't see why you're giving me so much shit, when you don't even _notice_ the kid half the time. "

Arthur sputtered.

"T-that doesn't change a thing!"

_Well_, Francis thought,_ This was unexpected._

He didn't remember the last time he had seen Gilbert so wound up over something so seemingly little.

It was Gilbert's turn to glare at Arthur. If looks could kill, there would have been war. It dragged on what seemed to be forever.

"I remember when you weren't such a grumpy old man, _England._" Gilbert used Arthur's official name the same way Arthur had used his. "You were so fun. Now you're worse than China and India, and they're like fucking ten million years old or some shit. "

"Really Prussia? I remember when you were actually a na-" Francis clamped a hand over Arthur's mouth.

"_Angleterre_," he said in a low voice. "Drop it. You're being ridiculous."

He looked over at Gilbert, whose expression had gone uncharacteristically blank. However, his eyes were murderous and his jaw was set in a tight line. Francis recognized this as Gilbert- no, _Prussia's_ "military face." Arthur had attacked a weak spot of his, and as much Gilbert was used to brushing it off, it still upset him.

"Gilbert, I am so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into Arthur and..."

"Whatever." Gilbert stood up. "I'm leaving now, if we're done here."

He walked out of the living room. Arthur got up to stalk behind him, and Francis followed in a hurry to keep the two in check. Near the door, Arthur grabbed onto Gilbert's arm. Gilbert turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Let go, old man."

Arthur tightened his grip.

"I_ know_ you, Prussia. I know how you are. And if you try anything, anything at all, and hurt my _son_, Matthew, you'll see that I'm capable of as much destruction as I was back when I was an empire." He gave a small smirk, all too familiar. "And I'm sure you more than remember that. "

Gilbert said nothing, and yanking his arm out of Arthur's grasp. He looked once at Francis' apologetic face, then, with his head held high, walked out of the house.

No way in hell would he let _anyone_ know that he had just been scared shitless.

* * *

When Matthew woke up from his nap, he found himself covered with Gilbert's jacket. He also noticed he was in the passenger seat, with the Prussian at the wheel, a slight frown on his face. He looked out the window and saw that they were stuck in a traffic jam. He looked at the car clock and it read seven thirty. But hadn't they been at Francis' at five thirty?

"Gil?"

"Hey Matt. How are you feeling?"

Did Gilbert sound tired and a bit...resigned?

"Um... Alright, I guess. Why are we still out? And why are you driving?"

"You were sleeping when I came back out. So I moved you to the passenger seat. And I took the highway to get home faster and then this shit happened." he waved vaguely towards the traffic surrounding them that was slowly inching forward.

"Doesn't rush hour start at six thirty? The highway is only ten minutes from Francis'... When did we leave?"

"Uhh, I don't know. 7?"

"Why so late?"

Gilbert pointedly looked away from Matthew who swore he could see a faint blush on the albinos cheek.

"They just wanted to talk."

With that abrupt reply, Matthew decided not to push the matter any further. He leaned his head against the window and fell back into a calm, dreamless sleep.


	10. A Drink and a Confession of Sorts

Gilbert was still pissed at Arthur, but not as much. After all, how could he complain when the man was buying him the bar?

_Yes,_ Gilbert thought, grinning as he watched the burly bartender mix peppermint into his absinthe. _Maybe I could forgive him._

Okay, maybe not _Arthur_ specifically. It was more like Francis stealing Arthur's card, and using it to pay for all the alcohol he, Gilbert, and Antonio were practically inhaling.

But revenge in the form of booze was never bad.

They were at a small but still fairly loud bar that was a recent favourite of both Francis and Antonio. They held a small affection for it, because even though they had been kicked out multiple times, they had not been _banned_ like they had from the other places. This definitely led them to hold the place in high esteem, to the point where they had actually started to pay for their drinks.

It had been a long time, almost too long since the three had gone out together. Amongst other things, business with France, Spain, and Germany (because Gilbert had finally been deemed 'responsible' enough by his brother to do some actual work) had prevented them from meeting up.

But now they sat at the wooden counter of the dimly lit building, laughing, drinking, and making a general nuisance of themselves.

How many drinks had it been now? Who gave a fuck, because it wasn't their money, and they were still far from being trashed. Though, no one could tell, with the amount of glasses beside the trio and the volume at which they were speaking and laughing.

Francis, of course, had an ulterior motive. When did he not? He didn't mind listening to Antonio's latest mishaps with Lovino, nor did he mind Gilbert going off about his awesomeness, even if it was a bit redundant at times. He definitely was amused when the two got thoroughly wasted, usually resulting in an extremely entertaining night, starting with one of them trying to do a strip tease for the entire bar on one of the tables, and ending in the three of them trying to get someone to bail them out of jail.

But no, that was not the plan. Not for now, at least. The plan was to get a rather dense albino friend to confess his feelings. Because Matthew was too shy, and Gilbert too stubborn, the two would never be able to admit to anything to each other. However, if Gilbert told Francis, he could put a plan to work. He could use his famous French charm to bring them together, and all would be well.

All he had to do was get Gilbert a little drunk, enough for the man to be looser with his words, but not so much that he'd fall into his aggressive-drunk mode, where he'd surely beat up Francis for being too annoying. Sure, he'd get a bit (ok, a lot) of trouble from Arthur later, but hopefully it would be worth the confession.

And the plan was going well. Gilbert was relishing the free alcohol, as was Antonio.

The bartender set down the glass for Gilbert, no doubt impressed at the trio's intake ability. If Francis' count was correct, Gilbert should be just about good enough right now.

"Yesss," Gilbert hissed, and took a long gulp. "I can't see how a place with such good booze is so easily overlooked."

Time to move in for the kill.

"Speaking of easily overlooked things," Francis said casually, swishing around the red wine in his glass. "I must know, how are your plans in seducing sweet Mathieu going along?"

Gilbert sputtered, spraying his drink all over his front shirt. Francis gave him a look of disdain, while Antonio found this much too amusing, clapping his hands together as he laughed.

"What do you mean by seducing? I ain't doing shit!"

"Sure." Francis said, propping his elbow up on the counter, placing his chin in his hand. "I'm _sure_ that's not what's going on."

"Really, Francis?" Antonio piped up. "Because the other day you kept on telling me about the unresolved sexual tension between Gilbert and-" Antonio scrunched up his face, trying to remember the name. "Gilbert and his friend."

Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, then it struck him.

"Wait, what the hell? Is this what Arthur got all pissy about the other day?"

Francis rolled his eyes, wondering how the other two men managed to make it out of bed without tripping over their own stupidity.

"Hey! Don't give me that look! There is no...there is no unresolved anything between me and Mattie!"

"Oh, so you've already solved it?" Antonio said, giving a wide smile as he took another swig of his drink.

"What? No! Why are you listening to Francis anyways? He thinks everyone's always in love!"

"He tends to be smart about such matters."

"Ah, _Antoine_, who knew you were capable of such intelligent speech."

Gilbert glared at Francis.

"I am definitely _not_ seducing Mattie! What put that stupid idea in your head anyways?"

Francis grinned lazily.

"What makes the idea so stupid? I'm sure you two like each other enough."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, and was about to say something, when Francis cut in.

"Atleast, I'm sure Mathieu likes you enough."

What? Gilbert's brain tried to process this, but alcohol had slowed down his functions.

"Well no shit, everyone loves the awesome me."

Francis gave an exasperated sigh.

"Gilbert, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't, actually."

Francis put down his glass down and leaned towards Gilbert, who in turn, leaned back.

"You," He said slowly, poking Gilbert's forehead. "And _Mathieu, _undoubtedly love each other. Don't deny it, Gilbert."

"F-fuck you!" Gilbert stuttered, a faint blush crawling across his face. "I'm denying it! Denying it right now!"

Francis gave a low chuckle and leaned in closer.

"Are you? You seem rather _fond _of the boy."

"He..he's just a good friend of mine!"

"Really." Francis raised a trimmed eyebrow. "I'm sure Antonio and I are your good friends, but I never see you acting like the way you do around Mathieu."

"Yeah." Antonio supplied, tilting his head, and matching Francis' grin. "I don't remember getting rib-crushing hugs, or being cooked wurst, or having my drinks paid for. Atleast not for a long time."

"Well that's 'cause you're not my fucking boyfriend."

"Ah? And Mathieu is?"

Gilbert had sorta fallen right into that one, and he mentally slapped himself. He chose not to answer, instead taking a dignified sip from his drink.

"Anyways," Francis pressed on, sitting up straight. "I think that you should make a move on Mathieu, since the boy is too shy to do it himself."

He frowned.

"Actually, no, I think that you doing it alone would be bad. You are a bit, how do we say it..._téméraire. _I think you'll only end up making things worse. And," Francis dropped his voice low enough for only Gilbert to hear. "We wouldn't want you hurting little Mathieu, _would we_?"

Gilbert picked up on the slightly intimidating tone behind Francis' voice and gulped.

" I d-don't need any help in hooking up with anyone." He said, keeping his voice steady. "I'm _not_ hooking up with Matthew."

He looked down at his beer, determined not to meet Francis' gaze, took a deep breath and continued.

"Alright, maybe he's cute and all, but no. I'm not going to try getting with him because he's a close friend. I'm not going to try anything, because if for some stupid, unawesome reason, it fucks up, I don't want to lose a friend."

Gilbert hoped this got the Frenchman off his back.

Francis sighed, but smiled a little. It wasn't the confession of love he was hoping for, but it was just as good coming from Gilbert. Now all he had to do was think up of a way to bring the two together.

_And, _he thought idly as he turned his attention back to his wine. _When I get them together, they can give me a special thank you._

Yes, that sounded good. A very special thank you, from both of them. Together. At the same time?

Francis was looking forward it to it, because when it came to these situations, he never failed.

* * *

_Fuck._

Gilbert hated Francis, he really did. Because it was always Francis that started these kinds of thoughts in his head.

_Stupid wine sipping lovey-dovey bastard._

He stood in the dingy washroom of the bar, washing his hands with the cold water, thinking about what Francis had said. Him and Matthew?

_Not a bad idea._

Yes a bad idea. Yes a very, very bad idea. He and Matthew couldn't possibly have _that _kind of relationship.

_But you like him. Love him?_

No he didn't, because he was too awesome to stoop to such a... such a disposable feeling. One that he was sure wouldn't be returned.

_Or maybe it already is?_

He bit the inside of his cheek, still running his hands under the cold water. What if what Francis had said was true? That Canada, _Mattie_, liked him back?

Matthew was his good friend, maybe even his best friend. He could actually let his guard down around the younger nation when they were alone, and he was the only one who could tolerate Gilbert for more than a week at a stretch. Ludwig didn't count, because he never really had a choice since they were brothers. But even then, Matthew was more welcoming. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Matthew was lonely, with everyone forgetting him so often. Maybe he kept up with Gilbert, because that meant there was one more person that remembered him.

But they always had a genuinely good time with each other. The kid made him laugh a lot, which was surprising to him at first, since he was always so quiet and reserved at the World Meetings. Prussia and Canada weren't really connected, but Gilbert and Matthew were. So what did that mean? After all, how many other nations were his friends purely for the sake of being friends? Yeah, Toni and Francis were there, but that wasn't an entirely social friendship either. Matthew endured all of his awesomeness, and never really _truly _complained.

And he listened.

Matthew listened. He paid attention, even when Gilbert was spouting off useless crap. That counted for something.

Gilbert shook his head, splashing his face with the icy cold water.

If he tried anything, and Francis was wrong, he didn't want their friendship to go to shit. He didn't want things to be awkward between him and the other. And he didn't want Arthur (and by the previous tone of his voice, Francis) playing the overprotective parent and trying to murder him either. He knew he was awesome enough to take the both of them on, but he didn't want to.

_Screw it._

He'd rather not dwell on this. He'd rather go and get completely sloshed, like he was in the process of doing before Francis rudely interrupted.

After all, he wasn't paying. So there was no reason he should be in the filthy washroom, over-thinking things, when there was a totally awesome night up ahead.

Yeah. He turned on his heel, leaving behind the washroom and probably his sobriety.

* * *

"The hell, Toni?" Gilbert grunted as he hurled himself into the backseat of Antonio's car. "We're not 13 year old girls."

Antonio just threw his head back and laughed as he increased the volume of the song, as the voice started.

_"You know you love me!"_ Antonio sang happily, his words slowly slurring together. "_I know you care~"_

Francis gently smacked the side of his head.

"_Antoine_, you are not as charming a singer when drunk."

"Aw, that's the same thing Lovi said when I tried to sing it to him and then he hit me~"

"For a good reason. I'd beat your head in too." Gilbert supplied.

"Aww c'mon Gilbert, I know you had it as your ringtone a couple of months ago!"

Gilbert blew a raspberry at Antonio.

"It was a dare!"

"That is why you kept it for a whole 2 weeks until I changed it? I heard you sing the rapping part to your brother the other day at the meeting too~"

"You're a fucking..." Gilbert slurred, a headache beginning to form instead of an insult

It took a moment (or ten?) of thinking and then-

"You're a fucking flower!" Yeah, that worked pretty well. "You're a fucking pansy flower!"

"Aww, _eso es lindo_~ Am I a _pretty_ flower?"

"Fucking gorgeous, Toni. You're Francis' crotch rose."

"_Cher, _do not boost his ego."

"_And I was like baby, baby, baby ooooooh~_" Antonio was practically yelling the words out now, while attempting to put the car into reverse.

"Antonio, shut the fuck up and drive before I fucking kill you."

* * *

**Who loves lame insults that totally make sense?**

**téméraire= rash/reckless. sorry if theres OOCness idk I've been a bit more mellow and i think it might show through my writing OTL  
**


	11. Decisions

"_You want to what?_"

"Not so loud, Angleterre. "

England was sitting in between America and France at the large conference table. The two nations had debriefed him on their intentions. They had made sure Canada sat with Netherlands, far away so that he couldn't hear what they were talking about.

"Let Prussia and _mon petit fils_ Mathieu realize their love for each other. " France whispered back. England just looked at him.

"It means he wants them to hook up, old man. " America said, just a little too loudly.

Germany cleared his throat slightly and glared at America. Canada, however, had been too busy listening to Finland's presentation, and hadn't noticed. Prussia was not paying attention to  
anything in general, and hadn't noticed either.

"That's the _stupidest_ idea I've ever heard. " England hissed.

"Aww, don't be stuffy." America said, lowering his voice. "We can't deny the two lovebirds a chance at happiness."

"Shut up, you're sounding like France. "

"Is that such a bad thing,_cher_?"

The glare England sent to the two others got the message across.

"I think I've already expressed my disapproval. I don't want to do it again. "

"Ah, Angleterre, you cannot be so selfish. Try to be a bit more reasonable."

"How the bloody hell is that red eyed freak reasonable?"

France let out a small sigh.

"You seem to like that 'red-eyed freak' enough to go out drinking with him on a regular basis. "

"But he's not..." France had a point. "...No." England finished lamely, his eyebrows twitching. "Not him, not with Canada."

"Why not?" asked America. He prodded England's arm. "Look at how they lovingly gaze at each other."

England looked up, and surely enough, Prussia and Canada had caught each other's eye.

"How romantic." France said, grinning. "See?"

And then Prussia made a face at Canada who rolled his eyes but gave a small smile. Germany kicked Prussia under the table, then Prussia winced and stuck his tongue out at his brother. Germany ignored him, and continued to take notes. Prussia sat back, pouting.

"_Very_ romantic." England replied sarcastically.

"I know you'd see the light, Artie!" America said enthusiastically.

"I was being sarcastic, you dolt!"

Germany cleared his throat again, this time louder.

"Germany?"

"Sorry, Finland. You may continue. "

The three of them yet again received an annoyed glare. This time, Canada had noticed and gave them a questioning glance. France and America just smiled back, while England sulked. Canada shifted his attention back to Finland, and the three resumed their hushed conversation.

"I do think you have no say in this." Francis said quietly. "How would _he_ feel if someone who tends to forget who he is tries and barges in on his love life?"

"You make it sound as if I'm the bad guy."

"Well you aren't exactly helping."

"Yes I am! I'm trying to protect one of the more decent nations that are left." England protested. France and America gave him an offended look, and he added, "Don't even begin."

"Well, then you don't need t'help." America said simply.

"Wh-what? And let France try and use his so-called charm?"

"Hey," France countered, raising an eyebrow. "That charm worked with you."

England was about to counter but America pressed on.

"An-y-ways, I think France for a change has the right idea. I mean, Canada practically admitted his love for the guy."

"How," France asked, looking slightly taken aback. "Did he tell you so easily and not me?"

"I'm the hero, duh. Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Lack of tact, inability to keep out of other's business, general inability- ow!"

America had kicked at England's shins underneath the table. England went red as everyone's attention turned on him.

"T-truly sorry. I-uh, I...Sorry." He bowed his head, silently cursing America.

"That's what ya get." America muttered, grinning slightly, as soon as everyone had looked away.

"I think it will be best if you just let me and Amerique handle things." France said. "We would not want you getting in the way of things."

"I still don't approve." England grumbled.

"And we don't care." America smiled. "You wouldn't be of much use anyways."

"Then what was the point in telling me!"

* * *

_Bloody tossers._

England sat in a booth with France and America in a small cafe (_French, _none the less) during their lunch break, as the two chattered on about their plans to get Prussia and Canada together. America and France had insisted that it was just a mere coincidence that this was the same cafe that Canada and Prussia had decided to go to (and Cuba, but they chose to ignore that.) France had chosen a seat at the back of the cafe where they could not be seen, and definitely not heard over the din. The first 5 minutes of their conversation had been dedicated to letting England know that they didn't care what he thought, they'd go through with their plan.

Now, they were talking about what the plan would actually be. So far, America hadn't let anyone else suggest anything, being very enthusiastic in sharing his own.

"Really, Alfred, are you twelve?" England said. "That's both childish and absurd. And utterly useless. If they go for lunch together, I don't think that seating them beside each other during all the meetings will change anything."

"Well I didn't hear _you _making any suggestions." America retorted.

"That's because you aren't letting anyone talk! And _I _don't approve of-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." America said, waving away his complaint. "I heard the first fifty times, Artie."

"They spend too much time together for that to have an effect on them." Francis said, then shook his head. "All that time, and I still can't believe they haven't done anything."

"Matthew's just shy. Oh I know! Since the next World Meeting is being hosted by Lichtenstein, everyone's cramming into one hotel. We could make sure they end up in the same room and then y'know..."

This time, even France made a face at the suggestion.

"You have been watching too many of your romantic comedies, Alfred. We need something that would work in real life."

"How would that not work in real life? If I were them, it'd work for me."

"Your brother has a bit more...self control. Despite being around the frog in his childhood." England pointed out. "I suppose it came from when I raised him."

"And," France added. "They're already used to each other. So it would really make no difference."

"You guys are _laaaame_. Alright fine, then how about something heroic? How about we get Gilbert to rescue Matthew from something? Like a mugger?"

"How would that work?" Francis asked, poking at the slightly burnt brioche that he had just recieved. The chef must have been an Englishman. "I'm sure Mathieu would be fully capable of protecting himself. He looks soft on the outside, but he is a rather good fighter when he decides to. Even ask _Allemagne_."*

"And who would we get to mug the two anyways?" England still didn't approve, but he thought he might as well add to the discussion. "I'm pretty sure any of the nations would be too thick-headed to remember who they were mugging, and we wouldn't want to inflict a death wish upon any poor human."

America scrunched his face in thought.

"It could be one of us. Preferably you, Artie."

"No way in hell I'm getting tangled up in one of your stupid plans."

"Meanie~"

"Wanker."

"Grandpa."

"Git!"

"Men." France sighed. "Back to the discussion, _s'il vous plait_?"

England grumbled, while America busied himself with vacuuming up the plate of burgers that had just appeared at his table. He had had to annoy the waiter into convincing the chef into making a couple (okay, maybe a few) for him.

This was hard. Especially when the couple they were trying to hook up already did couple-like things without being a couple. This just made it more complicated, because they had to think of something that would actually get the message across.

"What if we made Mattie jealous?" America suggested, ketchup dripping down his mouth. England rolled his eyes at his sloppiness. "We could get like, Prussia to go out with someone, and then Mattie could become all jealous and then confess! Just like in those movies, which, Francis, are totally amazing."

"Er, I do not think Mathieu would be that bold. He'd most likely just 'want what makes Gilbert happy.' Maybe it could work the other way around."

"True." Alfred nodded. "Who would we use?"

"Gilbert would either beat the life out of the other person, or be too dense to pick it up." England cut in.

The men sat in silence, thinking.

"Well, what if we set the two up on a blind date with each other?" France said finally, stirring his coffee. "That would be quick and easy."

"That's actually a really good idea. We could get them to meet at the movies or something."

France wrinkled his nose. "That's so...bland. How about a restaurant?"

"That's so stuffy. How can you have fun in a restaurant?"

"It's supposed to be _romantic_. Mathieu likes romantic things. After all, he is my son."

England scoffed.

"Anything involving Gilbert can't be romantic."

"Ah, _cher_, that's what they said about you, but look where we are." France said, giving a smile, his eyes twinkling.

England narrowed his eyes, but couldn't deny that France had a point. (_AN: Did France just make a sexually rational point?-shot-_)

The three continued their discussion, ideas thrown around, some extremely bizarre (courtesy of America), and some downright lewd (courtesy of France), and by the end of the lunch break, they had all (England rather grudgingly) decided on a course of action. Satisfied, the three made their way back to the building where the meeting was being held, not noticing the little white bear that had been in the vicinity of the table, that had heard the whole thing.


	12. Just Like the Movies

Over the next week or so, Alfred and Francis came up with a variety of ideas to hook Matthew and Gilbert up. They tried the little things at first, such as dropping hints here and there. None of them were picked up, so they tried to say things in a more obvious way.

* * *

"Hey Mattie." Alfred poked his brother, while they were sitting on a couch in Alfred's living room, watching something on television.

"Hmm?"

"I think Gilbert likes you."

"Mhm." Matthew gave a small nod, all his concentration directed on the screen.

"Aren't you going to ask why?"

"Of course he likes me. We're friends." Matthew muttered back, leaning forward. His fists were clenched and his eyes were narrowed.

"That's not what I meant, I me-"

The rest of Alfred's sentence was drowned out in a "FUCK YEAH!" as his normally more reserved brother jumped up onto the couch, yelling.

Maybe asking him during a hockey game was a bad idea.

* * *

"Same thing happened with Gilbert." Francis sighed. After Matthew left, Alfred had called to let him know how things went.

"At first, he told me of course Matthew liked him, who didn't? And when I clarified, he still didn't get the idea. And then became defensive." Francis recounted the night at the bar.

"So now what?"

"It's up to us."

"Wasn't it always?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon thinking up different plans, because they knew it would probably take more than one try to get the two together.

Even though Francis would hate to admit it, he didn't expect Matthew to be as dense as Gilbert. Or, by the look of things, denser. Out of the Alfred and Matthew, Francis had always thought that Alfred was the more blissfully oblivious one, but that was apparently not the case. The younger nation being shy didn't help anything either.

Buut, this was the kinda stuff Francis excelled at. And he'd be damned if this didn't work out.

* * *

Matthew was nervous, and slightly annoyed. He didn't know why his brother insisted on setting him up on a 'blind date' when Matthew fully... Well sorta admitted he might kinda _maybe_ like Gilbert. But his brother had insisted, saying he needed to have fun.

The date was at a movie theatre near his house. He was supposed to meet his date at the large front steps leading into the Cineplex.

Well, 20 minutes into the 'date', and he was definitely not having fun. He was sitting on the cold stone steps, the cold November air rustling through his hair. He wouldn't have been surprised if whoever was his 'date' had just forgotten about him.

Well that would suck.

That would suck if Matthew was dressed up for nothing. Well not exactly dressed up, but he decided for a change to forgo his usual red sweater for a nicer plain white shirt, and a black hoodie with fur on the hood. He even wore the pair of black and white skateboarding shoes that Alfred had got him while trying to convince him to go through the 'skater' phase with him.

For the past five minutes, he had been scuffing the shoes to death against the pavement waiting for his date, fraying the bottom of his baggy blue jeans at the same time. Alfred wouldn't tell him what they looked like. All he said was that his date would be wearing a purple and green t-shirt with a black sweater and would meet him at the front of the cinema. Leave it to his brother to be concise.

He couldn't even believe that he actually agreed to his brother's idea. He should really stop being a pushover once in a while. What if there wasn't actually a date? What if his brother was just teasing him?

He knew he couldn't take out the building irritation on his faceless date if they never showed up, but he comforted himself in knowing that Alfred would be there for that.

Maybe he could just go home now. Or call someone to join him, so that he wouldn't feel like the night was a waste. Yeah, that would sound good. The date was now half an hour late, and this gave him a good excuse to ditch. But who would he call?

He pulled his phone out and started scrolling aimlessly down the contact list.

Who could he call?

Not Alfred, for sure. Miguel had a meeting. And Lars was with him too so that cancelled them out. Francis? No, the mainstream theatre didn't play any of the type of movies that Francis  
liked to watch. And since it was a Friday night Francis was probably... preoccupied. So who did that leave? Gilbert? Matthew knew that the man was anything but productive, so he wasn't busy. Oh, wait, he was. Gilbert had told him last night that his brother was taking/forcing him to see some 'lame-ass movie about some lame-ass shit'. Matthew sighed as he put away his phone, putting his elbows on his knees, and resting his chin in his hands.

Company would have been really nice right now, even if it was in the form of his forgetful polar bear.

* * *

Meanwhile, Gilbert sat at a table in the small food court in the theatre, tapping his fingers on the surface, much to the annoyance of Arthur.

"Are you sure it was this theatre?" he asked for the hundredth time. Arthur sighed, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Yes I'm sure; this is the address Francis gave."

"What if Francis was just setting me up?"

"Well I wouldn't be here waiting with you, would I?"

"How the hell would I know? Whoever was supposed to show up hasn't, and I've been waiting for 45 minutes. "

"That's because we arrived fifteen minutes early, you dolt."

"You wouldn't stop bitching at me before we left my place!"

No one could have paid Arthur enough to wait with Gilbert for his date. And since everyone in the world was an inconsiderate bastard, no one did, and he was just simply forced. Forced to sit here, with the epitome of annoying, while Francis and Alfred watched on, the first disguised as a theatre usher and the second, a clerk at the fast food counter, each wearing their own too-fucking-happy grins.

Francis had told Gilbert he had set him up with someone on a blind date. He didn't give Gilbert a chance to refuse, much less a chance to speak, and had left Gilbert with orders for the date and what to wear.

To make sure Gilbert went, Francis made Arthur pick him up. Francis and Alfred would be busy keeping tabs on the date, so they couldn't do it themselves.

So grudgingly, an hour before the date, he had come to pick Gilbert up, and found the man sleeping on the couch in his boxers. With the help of Ludwig and an air horn he managed to wake Gilbert up.

In a very long fifteen minutes, Arthur had to kick Gilbert to get him ready. The half an hour ride there was spent listening to the man shoot off about his awesomeness.

And now, he sat with the currently insufferable albino, waiting for his date.

Not that he didn't like Gilbert. Oh no, Gilbert was entertaining in his own way. What he didn't like was Gilbert's filthy hands all over his ex-colony. And he knew very well how filthy those hands were.

"Arthur! Are you listening?"

Gilbert was sounding irritated now. Being stood up was not an awesome thing to do to an awesome guy like him. He had only agreed to the blind date thing to prove to Francis (and  
himself) that he was _not_ in love with Matthew.

But whoever the blind date was a total dickface and didn't show up. And he was kinda currently missing the kid, who would have proved better company than the temperamental Brit.

Oh well. He didn't want to kill a perfectly good evening.

"What do you want?"

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"The hell? Aren't you supposed to wait for your date?"

"Who ever it was obviously was too lame to come so I might as well grace you with my awesome presence for a few hours."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, scanning the crowd in the theatre.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the person is already here and couldn't find you because you were too bloody stubborn to wear what Francis told you to."

"Who gives a fuck what I'm wearing? Don't you know how the person looks like anyways? "

Instead of wearing the colours Francis told him to, Gilbert wore the exact opposite. He was wearing an obnoxiously yellow shirt with some German band on it, underneath a black and white checkered sweater.

Where the hell was Matthew?

Not that he would hand over the boy to Gilbert if he could help it, but the fact was he couldn't help it. The bloody frog and the Yank made it clear that he couldn't. So for the sake of his own sanity, he just hoped this would all be over soon

"So what do you say, Artie? Wanna catch a movie?"

"No. "

Oh, how he craved a cup of Darjeeling and a nice book.

"Aw, come on Arthur, I won't make out with you. Or force you to give me head during the movie, even though I know you'd totally do it. "

And a lot of liquor. God, yes that would be good.

"No." Arthur repeated, annoyance ringing in his voice.

"Fine, old man, I'm leaving then. If my 'date' shows up tell them they suck. "

"Really? Must you always be so childish?"

If Gilbert left now, it would ruin the plan.

"Saves me from being like you, gramps."

Gilbert _surely_ couldn't be persuaded to stay no matter what, so Arthur didn't _have_ to waste time telling him to stay, _right_? Francis and Alfred couldn't blame him for that.

Arthur watched as Gilbert got up and left, not bothering to look at Alfred and Francis' reactions. When Gilbert exited, he felt a smack at the back of his head and turned around to glare at the person.

"Artie, you weren't supposed to let him go!" Alfred glared back with equal force.

"I couldn't help it! Do you know how it's like sitting with that man for a long period of time when you're both actually sober?"

"Go get him back! He has to wait for Mattie!"

"And where the hell is Matthew? Did you give him the right location?"

"Of course I did! I told him to meet at the front of this theatre at 8!"

"The_ front_? What the hell? I thought you told him to meet in the food court!"

"Well it's not my fault! He could have just stepped inside the theatre to check if his date was there!"

Arthur sighed, cursing internally. 45 minutes with Gilbert for nothing?

"Alfred, I sometimes wonder how you get through the day being so bloody stupid. Just in case you didn't notice, the food court branches off from the main area. There's no way Matthew could have see us if he stepped in! We can see out, but he can't see in."

"Still, I'm not the one who let a key player of the plan get away." Alfred said, crossing his arms and pouting.

"That doesn't change- hey look!"

Alfred peered out and saw two very familiar figures stumbling in through the door. Gilbert had an arm around Matthew's shoulders, and was dragging him in with what seemed to border on a chokehold. Matthew was sputtering and trying to pry Gilbert's arm off, but laughing at the same time.

"Yes! They found each other!" Alfred did a little fist pump. "Time to tell Francis!"

* * *

Matthew was still sulking outside on the steps when he heard his name.

"Matthew!"

He turned his head towards the voice and to his surprise, saw a very familiar person jogging down the steps towards him.

"Gilbert!" he called back, a wide smile spreading across his face as the other waved.

The older nation plonked down on the steps beside him.

"I thought you were watching a movie with your brother?" Not that he minded that Gilbert was there. In fact, he could feel his insides sort of flutter at the sight of his friend, but he ignored it.

"West ditched me to go do his little boy toy in the washroom." Gilbert replied easily, laughing as Matthew grimaced. "I'm kidding. He ditched me alright, but he's at home. Some shit about too much paper work. Why are you here?"

Matthew contemplated telling Gilbert the truth. Deciding Gilbert would probably never stop laughing at him, he chose to not.

"I was going to meet Alfred for a movie, but he skipped out. Or forgot. Whatever it was, he didn't show up. "

There was silence for a moment.

"Then why don't we watch one together instead?" Gilbert blurted out, and then hastily added. "I mean, if you want to."

Matthew swore he could see a small tinge of pink on the others cheeks. Looking away so that the same wouldn't happen to him, he nodded.

"Yeah sure."

He stood up, brushing off his jeans.

"You look nice."

Matthew stared at Gilbert, his ears turning pink. Was that actually...?

"For a change you look like a guy."

Matthew flipped him off, but smiled as Gilbert kesese'd. Gilbert slung an arm around his shoulder, starting to chatter about which movie they  
should watch as they made their way up the stairs.

This definitely beat a blind date.

* * *

Francis and Alfred had changed into regular clothes, and now Arthur was sitting with them at the back corner of the fairly empty theatre. They watched as Gilbert and Matthew took a seat a few rows down towards the center. The amount of popcorn and candy they had gotten nearly rivalled the amount that Alfred had. Nearly. The only thing modest was the large fountain drink sitting in the arm rest between them.

Thankfully, the movie the two had picked out was the latest James Bond movie so Francis and Alfred didn't have to listen to Arthur gripe on about how the movie sucked.

"5 American Dollars say they'll make out by the end of the movie." Alfred said.

"10 Euros says halfway through."

* * *

It's not like they hadn't watched a movie together before. This was just a tiny bit different though, even though the two wouldn't acknowledge it. And they were both glad for the darkness of the theatre, so that their faint blushes couldn't be noticed.

Arthur really wished that Alfred and Francis would just stop whispering about how far the silver-haired man and the blonde would go by the end of the movie. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it and flipped it open. It was a message from Gilbert.

_found a friend to watch the movie with tell my date they're a dick if they show up_.

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

Friend?

So that meant that the two didn't know that they were the ones who they were supposed to meet up with? He groaned. Better not let Alfred or Francis find out, lest they decide to do something marginally stupider than what they already had.

* * *

Through the movie, Matthew kept stealing glances at Gilbert. Once or twice, he'd catch Gilbert's eye and the other would make a stupid joke about what was going on in the movie. He'd laugh, turn back, and thank the highers that Gilbert didn't notice anything.

He had, admittedly, wondered at one point if his brother had tried to set him up with Gilbert. But the person was supposed to meet him at the front of the theatre, and was supposed to be wearing purple and green. Since the first was by coincidence and the second did not apply, Gilbert definitely wasn't his blind date.

But he thought he preferred this more. Being with Gilbert definitely beat having an awkward date with someone he may or may not know.

* * *

A bunch of weird and very unmanly emotions were running through Gilbert's head. Some of them were making him want to do totally unawesome things.

When their hands brushed while they reached for the drink, he had an urge to tangle his fingers with Matthew's.

When Matthew shove popcorn into his mouth because Gilbert's hands were full with the two candy bars he was simultaneously eating, he wanted to kiss his hand.

And when he caught Matthew looking at him, he wanted to kiss him. Well, _shit_.

Gilbert wanted to slap himself just so he wouldn't think anything more that he would surely get his man-card revoked for. Instead, he settled for putting his arm across the top of Matthews's seat, a common and innocent enough gesture. And he didn't notice when Matthew slightly relaxed back into his arm.

* * *

Francis frowned. They had arrived at the halfway mark through the movie, and it seemed like he would probably owe Alfred five dollars.

He watched the silhouette of Gilbert lean in to Matthew's. Ah, the moment they were waiting for.

Gilbert's silhouette retracted, holding a bag of something in his hand, and he could hear Gilbert chuckling as Matthew tried reaching for the bag to no avail. Gilbert stuck out his tongue, putting his arm down. Matthew slapped him, and used the temporary shock as an opportunity to grab his bag back.

So much for the moment. Why did everyone assume that Matthew took after Francis in terms of romance?

* * *

In addition to Francis and Alfred, Gilbert was also pissing him off. Well he had already done a good job of it; he was just making it worse. And Arthur was sure he wasn't the only one in the theatre irritated at the albino who loudly went "om nom nom" every time the actors kissed during the love scene.

* * *

Gilbert felt something on his shoulder. He looked and saw Matthew's head lolling onto his shoulder. He gave him a gentle nudge and raised a questioning eyebrow when Matthew looked up. With the glow of the movie screen, he could see Matthew was turning red.

"S-s-sorry... I'm just tired and kinda dozed off."

"S'okay." Gilbert raised his arm and snaked it around Matthew's seat like he had before, making it more comfortable. "Sleep."

Matthew was shocked by Gilbert's gesture, but decided to take up the offer. He couldn't over-think things; Gilbert was just showing his rare, but existing, genuine friend side.

_It's not like he hasn't done this befor_e, Matthew told himself as he dropped his head against Gilbert and closed his eyes.

Gilbert looked down at the blonde, who had fallen asleep.

Ugh, he was going to resist the urge to run his hands through that soft, golden hair that faintly smelled like mint.

Maybe if he could beat up Francis for putting the whole "love" idea in his brain, he'd get back the man-card he was pretty sure he just lost.

* * *

Alfred and Francis were wearing identical expressions of disappointment while Arthur had one of relief.

The credits were rolling and Gilbert and Matthew hadn't done anything whatsoever. The most that had happened was Matthew falling asleep against Gilbert, but Alfred pointed out that it was nothing special.

"Well of course they didn't do anything." Arthur whispered, as they quietly hurried out of the theatre before the other two caught them. "They didn't know it was a date."

"What?" Alfred hissed. "What do you mean?"

"Is this why nothing happened? Did our plan go to waste?" Francis asked, annoyed that Arthur hadn't told them this before.

"Well I didn't want you boys to make a big scene." Arthur replied smoothly, as he walked towards the exit.

Alfred and Francis followed him, fuming and cursing as they did, missing the small kiss Gilbert quickly planted on top of Matthew's head before shaking him awake.


	13. A String of Bad Ideas

After the failed blind date, Alfred and Francis had decided to use the classic "make the other jealous" idea. It had worked for many others, and they figured that it would turn out better than the last one. They also decided to leave Arthur out of this, because he had (sort of) ruined the last plan.

At the next world meeting, Francis had convinced Cuba to take Matthew out on a fake-date, preferably to a nice restaurant or something. Cuba pointed out that while it would be easy with Matthew, it was unlikely that anything Francis could do would get Gilbert to go into a fancy-schmancy restaurant. So it was agreed that Cuba would take Matthew out to their favourite bar, and Gilbert and Francis would run into them by 'coincidence'.

_That_ part of the plan had worked really well.

Now, Francis sat beside three happily drunk men, rubbing his temples as a haze of cigar smoke roamed the air. Alfred had a meeting with Switzerland, so he couldn't make it, but he would have made better company. Hell, Francis wouldn't mind if it was Arthur with him.

They had arrived late to the bar, because Gilbert decided to drive and they ended up getting pulled over. Gilbert and the police man spent a good half hour arguing, and Francis had to use his charm to not get them into anymore trouble. Gilbert spent the rest of the ride in the passenger seat, complaining about how Francis should treat his awesomeness better because after all, they had been friends for so long.

When Gilbert walked in, he had automatically noticed Miguel and Matthew. He dragged Francis over to the duo, and Francis waited for Miguel to tell Gilbert that he was on a date with Matthew. Gilbert would realize he has feelings for Matthew, and take him from Miguel. It seemed rather simple, really,and it had worked for others.

Except that moment never came. Matthew had never really been told it was a date, and Miguel was a bit too wasted by the time they got there to really remember it was a date. Gilbert just assumed it was a friendly outing and joined right in.

Matthew and Gilbert were of course giddy to see each other, but it wasn't quite as Francis had hoped for because Matthew already had a few drinks in him. The younger nation always amplified his actions and emotions when he was drunk, so there was nothing really special there. Gilbert had happily taken the seat beside Matthew and had already begun to order beer, and Miguel had produced a box of his finest cigars. He and Gilbert had taken one each, and lit up. Matthew had opted out, saying he already felt bad that Miguel was already paying for everything. Gilbert slapped Matthew on the back when he said this, laughing loudly, and Francis groaned inwardly. This plan was almost a complete failure. He had promised himself he wouldn't drink, at least not till this had been pulled off successfully, and by the looks of it, he'd be going home stone sober.

"Kesesese, Mattie, let's share~"

"Alright, Gi-il." Matthew said, his voice slightly high as he let out a drunken giggle.

Francis looked at Gilbert, who took a long drag, then leaned in close to Matthew, a smirk on his face. Parting his lips slightly, he exhaled, moving his face in slowly as the smoke curled around Matthew. Their noses were almost touching as Matthew inhaled the smoke, his own smile growing. He giggled again as his cheeks slightly flushed.

_Hmm?_ Maybe the plan wasn't a complete failure. Maybe Francis could finally order a glass of wine.

Feeling left out, Miguel jammed his face in between the two, billowing smoke out of his nose.

Maybe one glass wouldn't be enough.

* * *

At Alfred's insistence, the next plan that they used was his own "Operation Hero", because, as he pointed out, they couldn't think of anything better. Francis admitted that the thought of someone playing 'hero' to Matthew did have the chance to sort of sweep him off his feet.

They had convinced Sealand to 'mug' Matthew while he was out with Gilbert.

"This will be your chance to prove yourself! You'll almost be as heroic as me!" Alfred said enthusiastically to the principality. "And then Arthur will be _forced_ to accept that you're a country! Right Artie~"

Arthur just gave an angry glare, but what Alfred said was enough for Sealand.

Now, Alfred and Arthur (grudgingly) were crouched near a bunch of dust bins near an empty alley way, watching as Gilbert chased Sealand, who had stolen Gilbird and was trying his best to run away from the older nation. Matthew was close behind, yelling at Gilbert to calm down, and that Sealand was just playing around and to please, _please_ not hurt the kid.

"Why on earth did you get _Peter _to do this?" Arthur hissed.

"Because he's the only one I didn't have to pay!" Alfred replied, watching in amusement. The plan hadn't worked, but whatever. This was entertaining as hell. "And he's not strong enough to do real damage."

"He didn't even remember who he was supposed to mug!"

"Not my fault Matthew's forgettable!"

"Well, seeing as he was the one that was supposed to be mugged, don't you think you should have picked someone who remembers him?"

"Oh shut up, I tried."

* * *

"Ew, I don't see why they had to put us between Alfred and Francis' room." Gilbert said, as he threw his duffel bag onto the large king-sized bed, then flopped down onto it. "Knowing them, they'll keep us up all night."

During this world meeting, everyone had, as Alfred had previously guessed, crammed into one hotel. Strangely, there weren't enough rooms, so even though most nations got their own hotel room, some had to share.

Matthew frowned. The situation seemed almost cheesy, that he would have to share with Gilbert instead of his brother. He wouldn't be surprised if Alfred and Francis had something to do with this.

"So who gets the bed?"

"Hmm?" Matthew was distracted, rummaging through his briefcase for tomorrow's schedule.

"I said, who gets the bed?"

"Eh, it's big." Matthew said, still not paying much attention. "We can just share?"

"Yeah?"

Matthew looked up, noticing the tone, and realizing what he said too late. Gilbert gave him a smirk, and he felt his ears turning slightly red.

"Don't even." He warned, and went to the small fridge in the room, ignoring Gilbert's gaze.

The rest of the night was uneventful, much to the disappointment of Alfred and Francis who were listening through the thin walls of the hotel. Matthew had taken an early night, or at least attempted to. Gilbert had found some hilarious show on T.V, and was cackling like a mad man, ignoring Matthew's pleas for him to just shut up. A muffled thud later, and they heard Gilbert swearing at Matthew, telling him off for throwing something at him. After a muffled argument, there was the sound of a shower, then relative silence, as the two were presumably asleep.

Time to think of a more drastic idea.

* * *

This was the last plan Francis and Alfred had. For some reason, coming up with ideas had been harder than they thought, because they had to find something that would actually work with the two. This may have seemed a bit extreme, but they were betting it would work.

They had planned everything the night before the meeting, making sure they couldn't go wrong. Arthur was stubborn about not being involved in this one, as he deemed it too impure and too much like Francis.

They had arrived early to the building where the world meeting was being held, dragging a protesting Arthur along.

"I will not take part in these shenanigans!" he said indignantly, stomping down the hall behind the other two.

"Oh get that stick out of your ass, Artie~ if it makes you feel better, we're using one of the more unknown ones. "

"Just because it's an unknown closet doesn't make it any better!"

"Well, it definitely makes it cleaner." Francis said cheerily, bouncing on his heels as they made their way down the hall to aforementioned closet.

It was a decent-sized utility closet, with enough room to fit a few cleaning carts. After the carts had been moved away, there was enough room to fit two people more than comfortably.

"How did you find this place again, Francis?" Alfred asked, as he looked for the light switch. He flicked it on, filling the room with a dim glow.

"I got the location from Elizaveta." Francis replied, placing a small bottle on a low shelf where it could easily be noticed. "I explained the while thing to her. Surprisingly, she did not ask for anything in return. Just said that I might want to sit next to her during the meeting."

"Hmm." was all Alfred said in return.

Arthur glared at both of them from the doorway.

"How are you two planning to bring the other two on here?"

"Simple. We lure them in here near the beginning of the meeting. Then we lock them in here for the rest of it. " Alfred said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No shit. How are you planning to lure get here in the first place?"

"We'll get his polar bear lure him down here."

"What the hell? How do you get a _polar bear_ to-?"

"The thing talks! And it understands what I said too. Mattie gives it a steady diet of acid or something. But whatever, it agreed to the plan, once it remembered Mattie."

"Seriousley, Alfred? You formed an alliance with a _polar bear_?"

"It could be worse, I could be using the help of a _flying mint bunny._"

"Shut up!" Arthur hissed, his ears turning pink. Alfred continued, raising his voice an octave and putting on a fake British accent.

"_Oh stop the snuggling, you're naughty, Captain Hook, Tinkerbell's not big enough~Take that big goofy kissy face to your-"_

_"_SHUT UP!_" _Arthur roared, his face completely red, as Francis doubled over in laughter. "You bloody arse, I'm going to kill you!"

"Aww, but then you wouldn't want your precious unicorns thinking you're a _nutburger, _would you?"

Arthur was about to step forward and throttle Alfred when something nudged his leg. He looked down, and saw a fluffy white animal at his leg.

"You." It said.

"Who?" Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

"Kumatinku!" A voice called from the distance. "Where are you?"

"Shit! That's our cue to leave, guys!" Alfred grabbed Francis and Arthur, and dragged them out of the closet to the fire exit. They shoved through the door, right as Matthew and Gilbert turned the corner.

* * *

"Kumatinku!" Matthew called out, hurrying down the hallway.

"Can't we find him _after _the meeting?" Gilbert whined, as he followed him, but he knew the answer would be no. Matthew was too attached to the bear for his own good, and when it ran away, he had gone into a small panic, especially when they couldn't get him within the first 15 minutes. Gilbert only tagged along because Gilbird was nestled in Kumajirou's head before he ran away and he wanted to find him, _not _because Matthew had threatened him with no pancakes and syrup for the next 3 months.

"But I saw him go down that hall over there!"

Matthew had broken out into a light jog, and Gilbert groaned.

"He probably just wanted to skip the meeting! I don't even know why you bring that furball anyways, he just goes who? who? who?"

"At least he doesn't _chirp_ non-stop, eh?" Matthew spat back.

"Fuck you and your passive-agressiveness."

They rounded the corner just as the door to the fire exit slammed shut. Kumajirou was standing by the closet door. Matthew started sprinting down the hall and Gilbert grudgingly kept up, and Kumajirou disappeared into the closet.

Matthew ran into the closet while Gilbert slowed down and stopped at the doorway, slightly huffing and very annoyed.

For some reason, Kumajirou was perched on the highest shelf with Gilbird. The broom closet was strangely devoid of a ladder, which proved to be an inconvenience since the shelf was around seven and a half feet in the air.

"C'mon Kumakuma! We have a meeting to go to!"

The polar bear just looked back with a blank expression, while Gilbird let out a little chirp.

"Gilbird!" Gilbert called out. "Come to your awesome daddy!"

Gilbird chirped, but made no move.

Matthew looked around the room for something to climb on. He found a sturdy looking box and tried dragging it over to the shelf. However, it was heavy and barely budged.

"Weakling." Gilbert scoffed, walking over to help his friend. But when he bent down and gave the box a push, he realised that it indeed weighed a ton.

"Motherfucker." he grunted as he pushed the box in the direction Matthew was pulling. "Shit weighs as much as West's BDSM collection."

"I didn't need to know that, Gilbert. "

"Yeah you do, because- what the fuck?"

Gilbird had fluttered off Kumajirou's head and then, in a show of uncharacteristic speed, dived out of the room. At the same time, Kumajirou propelled himself off the shelf with extreme force. When he hit the ground, he rolled out of the closet and out of sight.

Matthew and Gilbert stood there with equally stunned expressions, as the closet door slowly closed shut.

* * *

**HMM**

**HMMMMM**

**HMMMMMMMM**


	14. Coming Out Of the Closet

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking _locked_!" Gilbert groaned, rattling the door knob. Matthew cursed softly as well.

They were stuck. In a utility closet. _Alone._ And there was a meeting that was going to start in about...now.

"Can't you pick the lock or something?" Matthew asked.

"Nah this...this closet locks from the outside."

"...Really?"

Gilbert pulled Matthew to the doorknob and put his hand over the smooth surface.

"Look, there's no keyhole."

"Oh Maple..."

Gilbert pulled out his cellphone, only to be greeted by a blank screen. His battery had died. He swore again.

"Here, I'll call Francis..." Matthew said. He dialed the number, but the robotic voice on the other end said the phone was temporarily out of service. He tried texting, but the message didn't get sent through.

Frowning, he tried Arthur, and it was the same. He tried Miguel and Lars after. The signal went through, but no one picked up. Maybe Ukraine? No, she didn't have a phone. Ivan? ... probably not a good idea with Gilbert around.

Who else?

This was when being sort of invisible and forgettable _really_suck. The only other person he would call was currently stuck in the closet with him.

"Man, West is going to fucking kill me..." Gilbert grumbled, leaning against the wall.

West.. Gilbert's brother... brother... Alfred!

That's who he forgot.

Leaning against the wall beside Gilbert, he quickly dialed Alfred's number, but was greeted by voice mail instead. He then sent a text, and to his great relief, two minutes later, his brother replied.

* * *

Alfred was (sort of) listening to Germany starting the meeting, when he felt a small vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his cellphone, and saw the message was from his brother.

_Hey Al, could you do me a favour?_

_-Matthew W._

Ah, the white polar bear had succeeded. Alfred grinned.

_depends_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

_Kumamiku locked me into a closet... could you get me out?_

_-Matthew W._

_r you with gilbert_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

_Yeah...how did you know?_

_-Matthew W._

Alfred chuckled slightly.

_hero knos all ;)_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

_So..could you please get me out?_

_-Matthew W._

_nope :)_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

Matthew stared at the screen. Was his brother giving up a chance to come rescue him like he always said he would, now that he actually needed it?

_..Why not?_

_-Matthew W._

_cus you and gil can get it on :D_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

Matthew felt his cheeks slightly heat up. So this whole situation was probably Alfred's doing. Sometimes he wished things were like they were on television, with siblings sharing a telepathic connection. Then he could strangle Alfred's brain.

"What did he say?"

"Er..." Matthew quickly deleted the text. "He said no, because he was...busy."

"Bastard. Give me that phone."

Matthew reluctantly tossed the phone to Gilbert. Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"Alfredo sauce?"

"Italy gave him the nickname, and he insisted on changing his contact name to it. And his signature." Matthew explained. Gilbert shrugged, before typing.

_dude get us out of th closet b4 i come rip ur balls off_

_-Matthew W._

Alfred frowned a bit. That didn't sound like his brother. His brother wasn't very forward in his threats. It was probably Gilbert.

_you can't do that if you're in a closet, genius_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

"Fucking American bastard..."

_dont be a dick just get us out or get franny or brows 2 get us out_

_-Matthew W._

_no :)_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

_y not_

_-Matthew W._

_because you're not asking nicely :(_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

"Gilbert, maybe if you asked nicer..." Matthew said, looking at the screen.

"Maybe if your brother was less stupid."

_matt did!_

_-Matthew W._

_but *you* didn't :)_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

_smd, alfag_

_- Matthew W._

Alfred laughed quietly, then sent his last text message, before turning off his phone.

_get my bro to do it, gaybert ;)_

_-Alfredo Sauce_

* * *

Gilbert had given Matthew his phone back, Matthew's face reddening but his still composed.

"Well, you know..." Gilbert said, cocking an eyebrow and smirking. "Not a bad idea, considering the situation." He playfully reached and squeezed Matthew's ass.

"Holy shit!" Matthew squeaked, wrenching Gilbert's hand away. "Maple! No!"

"Kesesesese~"

Gilbert laughed, prying his wrist out of Matthew's grip.

"That had to be the unmanliest thing I've heard all day. And _I _spent breakfast with West and his boyfriend."

Matthew looked away, trying to fight the blush that had completely taken over his face. He sat down on the large box that they had previously been trying to move. Gilbert tried to boot him off the box, but as soon as his foot made contact with Matthew's side, Matthew grabbed his foot and yanked, causing him to fall hard on his behind.

"You use that move way too often." Gilbert complained, getting up and brushing the front of his uniform,

"That's because you make me." Matthew mumbled back. Gilbert chuckled and sat down on the smaller box beside Matthew, and ruffled his hair.

"Aw, it was a joke. You know I wouldn't jump you."

_That's the problem. _A small voice at the back of Matthew's head said. Maybe him and Alfred did have a telepathic connection after all, and his twin was currently trying to invade his brain.

* * *

Hungary had insisted that France sit beside her during the meeting, with such a gleam in her eye that he couldn't refuse. Even with all the dirty looks Austria shot him. He had an expression of great disdain on his face, as she had kicked him out of his seat for France. He settled into the chair, as she pulled out her laptop and set it on the table. Nowadays, everyone brought laptops to meetings, usually as a discreet way to kill boredom.

"Kiku and I rigged some cameras in some of the closets." She whispered, a little while later, as Germany started to speak. France faintly wondered if cameras were there in any of the closets he had dragged England into. Maybe he could get a video too?

Hungary poking him brought him out of his reverie, and he stared at the screen. The normal work documents were up, including speaker notes that had been emailed to everyone. But, in the corner of the screen, there was a smaller box, one that seemed to be a video of something. He squinted, and saw that it was a live feed of the closet that they had trapped their two victims in. Hungary saw him squinting, and checking to see if Austria wasn't spying on her, she enlarged the window. A little status bar at the corner said that whatever was on the screen was being recorded.

"My dear woman, you are wonderful."

Hungary grinned, then immediately went serious as Austria glanced in her direction.

* * *

"So how are we going to get out?" Matthew asked, after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Hmm?" Gilbert's hand was still in his hair, absent-mindedly toying with it. "Oh, I don't know. Want to kick it down?"

"I think that'd be a very bad idea."

Gilbert retracted his hand, using it to stroke his chin, looking thoughtful.

"Maybe we could climb through the air vent. I've done it before."

"Yeah, I remember that. Didn't we have to call emergency?"

"Shut up. Why don't you try calling someone again?"

"Well, everyone I tried was busy."

"Oh, c'mon not _everyone_. There must be someone you could call. "

"Er, well...I don't have that many contacts?"

Gilbert looked at him. "Oh, right."

An awkward silence hung between them, till Matthew spoke up.

"Do you remember anyone's number, maybe? Like your brother's or something?"

"Nah, phone numbers aren't awesome enough to stay in my brain."

Matthew vaguely remembered the time when Gilbert called him from the police station so that he could spring him. He voiced that thought out loud, and Gilbert laughed.

"Of course I'd remember _yours_, everyone remembers the number of their whore."

Matthew backhanded Gilbert on the head, and in retaliation Gilbert slapped him. Matthew raised his hand to the spot on his cheek, a look of mock astonishment.

"Dude, did you just _bitch-slap _me?"

"Hell no! That was an awesome man-slap!"

"You _bitch_-slapped me, Gilbert!"

"Shut up! Man-slap!" Gilbert tried to slap Matthew again, but Matthew ducked his head in time, snickering. "Don't giggle, you pansy bastard!"

"Pfffft, I'm sorry! I'll try not to next time you _bitch slap_ me!"

Gilbert pouted. "What happened to my quiet and polite Canadian?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot my place, _Gilly_." Matthew said, squeaking his voice intentionally when he said the nickname.

Then he suddenly found himself in a headlock.

"Gilbert!" he choked, tugging at the other man's arms.

"Ah ah ah. Not until you admit I'm the manliest thing to walk this earth."

"Never!" Matthew exclaimed, his voice strangled due to lack of air and choked laughter.

"I'm dead serious, Birdie." Gilbert said, grinning.

Matthew flailed his arms around, trying to make it look like he was attempting to deck Gilbert in the face. Gilbert loosed his grip with one arm, while keeping the other arm still firmly around Matthew. He laughed as he grabbed a flying wrist, but let out a loud "Oof" as Matthew used his captured hand and Gilbert's distraction to bring down his elbow into the other's stomach. Gilbert clutched his stomach as Matthew rubbed his neck.

"Is this a challenge, _Canada?" _Despite the rather hard jab to his stomach, the grin was still plastered across the albino's face.

Matthew returned the smirk, that, contrary to popular belief, he could pull off rather well due to a younger him trying to copy Arthur in all of his pirate glory.

"I don't know, _Prussia_, I don't want to be bitch slapped again."

"Oh, fuck you. You're definitely asking for it now."

Gilbert lunged at Matthew, tackling him off the box and onto the floor. He pinned his knees on either side of the man, swatting away the hands that tried to hit him. Matthew shoved his palm into Gilbert's face, pushing him away when he felt a sharp pinch.

"Maple! You bit me, Gilbert! Not fair!"

"Kesesese, of course it is!" Gilbert said, humming happilly as he wrenched the hand away.

"Next thing you know, you'll be clawing me, or pulling my hair out, Gilly." Matthew said, and Gilbert glared and flicked him hard on the forehead. Matthew jerked his head up sharply, hitting Gilbert's chin hard, but Gilbert didn't let go.

"I'll only let you go when you tell me how awesome I am~"

Matthew stuck his tongue out, and Gilbert reciprocated. They were like that for a moment, until Gilbert raised his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth twitched. He started slowly dipping his head, and Matthew's eyes widened as he realized the slightly compromising position they were in.

Gilbert had him pinned to the ground, and was only a few inches away from him. Why was his tongue still out? Wait, why was his own tongue still out? Matthew felt the heat clouding his brain, and did the only thing he could think of at the moment.

Matthew jerked his knee up between them, kneeing Gilbert in the gut.

"Mother fuck!" Gilbert gasped, rolling off Matthew and clutching his stomach. "That's like the millionth time! Have mercy on my stomach!"

Matthew propped himself up on his elbows, and tried his best to smirk at Gilbert and fight back the heat in his face at the same time. "That's what you get."

"Well you know what?"

And Matthew didn't exactly know how it happened, but thing the five seconds that followed, Gilbert had attacked from the side and head butted into Matthew's stomach. Matthew gasped and his hand immediately shot up, tugging at the silver hair, trying to pull him off. But Gilbert kept driving his head into Matthew's stomach, pushing his toes against the floor as leverage, cackling as Matthew squirmed. Matthew reached and wrapped his hands around Gilbert's rib cage area, trying to lift him up and flip him over, but failed. Gilbert's hand shot up to Matthew's face and pushed his head back down to the ground. He swung his leg over, and they were back to the previous position.

Gilbert sat on his stomach, spreading his legs so the feet pinned down Matthew's arms. With a wicked grin, he leaned forward and cupped Matthew's face with his gloved hands.

"Keseseses, I win, Mattie ~"

* * *

"Hungary, your nose..."

Hungary looked up from the screen. France was offering her a silk hankerchief.

"Sorry about that." She said, taking the cloth and dabbing slightly at the blood. France looked pleased at the events going on the screen. There were 3 different screens up now, one showing feed from a different camera at a different angle. Locking them in the closet had been such a good idea.

* * *

"Now, repeat after me."

Matthew tried to shake his head but Gilbert smushed Matthew's cheeks together, so that the other resembled a fish.

"Nuh uh uh. You lose, I win, so I get a reward."

Matthew glared at him.

"Now, repeat after me. I, Matthew Williams, Canada, accept the fact that Gilbert Beilschmidt, the Kingdom of Prussia, is the manliest, most awesome thing to walk the earth."

"Blrghh." Matthew tried to throw an insult, but found he could not speak.

"Aww, c'mon Birdie, it's not that hard."

Matthew narrowed his eyes, then nodded. Gilbert eased his hands, but still held on to his face.

Feeling the pressure on one of his arms also slightly lessen, Matthew used the opportunity to jerk it out, and quicker than lightning, reached up and clamped his fingers around Gilbert's nose.

"Gnaaak!" Gilbert let out a nasally cry, flailing as Matthew flipped them over, straddling him. Grinning, he scooted onto Gilbert's chest.

"You really do suck at one on one fighting, don't you."

"I'm going easy on you." Gilbert choked out, his face slowly turning purple.

"Laugh." Matthew said. "You'll be able to breathe if you laugh."

"What the hell?" Gilbert wheezed.

"Just do it."

Gilbert's chest started shaking, as he forced out laughter. Soon enough, the laughter turned genuine as Matthew joined in.

"Haha...Not...haha...fucking fair!"

"Haha! I win, Gil! Just admit it!"

"You...ha...bastard...ha...fucking...tea-bagging me...ha ha ha...I will fucking rape you...ha ha ha!"

Which made Matthew laugh harder, because all the seriousness in that threat had been completley lost. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, and accidentally bumped his head against Gilbert's chin, while the other nation laughed harder.

"Ha ha...Mother fucker!"

Matthew's curl brushed Gilbert's nose, tickling it.

And then Gilbert remembered.

A gloved hand reached and grabbed the curl, giving a merciless tug. He immediately felt Matthew go limp. He saw the blonde's face go red, and he used the oppurtunity to shove him off. Matthew fell on his stomach, and Gilbert immediately sat on his back.

"I win."

* * *

Hungary and France managed to hide their looks of extreme disappointment very well.

"I know Prussia was always thick-headed, but..."

"Canada." France supplied.

"Yeah, him. I thought he would be better. Isn't he your son?"

France rested his chin on his hand.

"Sometimes, I wonder."

* * *

There was really no way out of the stupid closet. Matthew was sitting cross-legged against a shelf, hunched over and fiddling with his phone while Gilbert rattled off all of his insane ideas, from digging their way out of the closet, to shooting down the door.

After Gilbert completely owning Matthew in the fight, they had gone back to brain storming ideas on how to get out. No one was picking up the phone, and Matthew had the faint feeling that Alfred was probably completely ignoring him. Because he knew his brother never actually paid _that _much attention during the meetings. That didn't stop him from texting every 2 minutes.

When Matthew pointed out that the first idea was impossible, and the second idea would likely not work because of the thickness of the door, Gilbert suggested that they bomb down the door. Matthew tried not to roll his eyes for what felt like the millionth time, as he pointed out that the bomb, if they even had one, would kill them too.

"Nonsense. My awesomeness will be enough to shield us both."

Matthew sighed. "Gilbert, for a change, could you be serious?"

"Of course I can be serious." Gilbert said, giving a look of mock offense.

"Prove it."

"Well..." Gilbert trailed off, eyes wandering through the room. They rested on something right above Matthew's head, and he smirked. "Oh. I know."

He pulled himself right in front of Matthew, and moved cross-legged position to resting on his knees. Matthew straightened his back a bit, coming face to face with Gilbert's chest.

"Uh, Gil?"

Gilbert leaned over Matthew, looking down with a wicked smile. Matthew currently hated his pale skin, and how easy it was him to go from perfectly normal to bright red. Gilbert hovered over him for a few seconds, looking at him while groping around the shelf, until he found what he was looking for. He leaned back onto his knees, and flashed the bottle in front of Matthew. Violet eyes went wide as they read the label.

"G-Gilbert...that's...um.." He felt like he was going to lose his voice.

"Yeeup." Gilbert said casually. "Looks like somebody left us a gift."

"Eh...Err...well...don't you think...um.."

"Yes, Mattie?" Gilbert was definitely enjoying the embarrassed expression splashed across Matthew's face.

"N-nothing, Gil."

Gilbert grinned, unscrewing the bottle and setting it down. Humming, he leaned in, and Matthew leaned back, till his back was touching the wall.

"Watch me be serious." He pulled off his gloves slowly with his teeth, all while his eyebrows were slightly raised and his red eyes holding the same wicked grin.

Matthew resisted the thought that Gilbert was trying to faintly seduce him and actually succeeding because no one did _that_ with their gloves with that kind of look on their face and that close and-no.

Still looking at him, with his eyes holding a mischievous gleam and his gloves hanging from his smirking mouth, Gilbert dumped half the contents of the bottle onto his hand. He gently rubbed his two hands together, spreading the liquid generously.

"You shee, I can be very sherioush."

And Gilbert used the liquid to slick back his hair completely, in a perfect imitation of his brother.

Matthew choked.

"Did you just run lube through your hair?"

"It appearsh sho." Gilbert spit out his gloves, then pulled his face into a stern expression, setting his lips into a tight line and glaring.

Matthew stared in disbelief for a few seconds, then felt the laughter starting to bubble in his chest. He tried to hold it back, but his shoulders started shaking with the effort.

"I do nod see vat is so amusing." Gilbert said, his voice thick and deep. "I vill nod tolerate any misbehaviour vithin my ranks."

Matthew couldn't hold it in any longer, and burst out laughing. Gilbert continued admonishing him, occasionally breaking out into German, driving Matthew to laugh till he had tears in his eyes.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hungary and France stared at the screen in disbelief.

"Did he just...?" Hungary whispered, while France nodded solemnly.

* * *

They were playing with an incomplete deck of abandoned cards that they had bound wedged between a few boxes, Gilbert entertaining Matthew with stories from when he was younger, when they heard footsteps down the hall way, and two faint voices faintly talking. A quick check of their watches told them that lunch break had started. They leapt up at the same time, and started banging their fists against the door and yelling.

The foot steps stopped right in front of the door, and they heard some mumbling as whoever was on the other end rattled the door knob, trying to open the door.

"Just pick the damn lock!" Gilbert yelled, and the people on the other side complied, and a minute later the door swung open.

"Prussia?"

"Sweden! Finland! That was totally awesome!" Gilbert said, leaping out of the utility closet. Matthew followed in a less exuberant way, but was still happy to finally be out of that cramped space. Tino and Berwald exchanged confused looks, and then looked at Gilbert, whose hair was completely slicked back. Their eyes ghosted over Matthew at first, but they seemed to notice him a moment later. Gilbert started chattering away to Tino about how awesome they were to rescue them, even if they could have totally gotten out by themselves.

"Why were y' in th're...?" Berwald looked down at Matthew.

"Canada." Matthew said. "We just got stuck in there. Thanks for getting us out."

Berwald furrowed his eyebrows.

"Wh't were y' doin' in th're?"

Matthew's face slightly flushed when he realized what Berwald was talking about.

"Uh...my..bear...ran into it...and we went after it..then it ran out and we got locked in."

Berwald held his stony gaze, and Matthew shifted uncomfortably. Tino materialized by Berwald's side, breaking the awkward silence.

"Why don't we all go get some coffee? Lunch break started a few minutes ago."

Matthew nodded, and followed them out of the building with Gilbert, who was talking about how much more awesome it would have been if they had just blown the door up.

* * *

Outside, France and Hungary cursed.

* * *

**smd= suck my dick. the most common phrase i use. even though i do not have said appendage for people to suck. but if i did, it'd totally be worshipped**


	15. Intermission

"_Osten_, where are you?" Ludwig called out for his brother as he went down the stairs.

"In here." Gilbert's voice floated from the living room.

Ludwig found Gilbert spread out on the sofa, still wearing his boxers and a plain white t-shirt.

"You're not coming to visit Canada with us?" Ludwig asked, frowning. Gilbert did his best to focus on the television in front of him.

"No, I don't see the need to."

"But we have a meeting there. And you always come when we go to see..." Ludwig trailed off, already forgetting the name of the nation.

"Canada. And I know, but I'm currently too awesome to go to a stuffy meeting with the bosses. Don't worry about it." He waved his hand in the general direction of their shared office. "I've already called in and told them. All my work's on the desk over there. Just take and do whatever the hell it is you do."

Ludwig raised his eyebrows. In the past two weeks, ever since the last world meeting, his brother had holed himself up in his rooms hours on end, only leaving to go drinking with him (because for some odd reason, Gilbert did not want to talk to Francis or Antonio) and to meetings with their boss.

The only time he had come out was when America and... His brother came for a brief meeting with their bosses, and it was mandatory for Gilbert to attend. Even then, he had been unusually quiet and reserved. And now, Ludwig was sure he could drag Gilbert out of the house with the meeting they had with America's brother. After all, the two were friends.

Sighing, Ludwig made his way to the office to pick up the work.

It was better to not question Gilbert, especially when his expression showed he was determined to not budge.

* * *

It was after he had made sure the house was completely empty, and locked up so that there could be no surprise visits that he went back up to his room. Locking the door of that too, he crouched by his bed and pulled out a huge carton box that he had pilfered from Ludwig's bedroom two nights ago. It was filled with books, books that his younger brother now no longer needed now that he had become well-acquainted with certain things.

If anyone _ever_ found out that Gilbert had stolen, and was reading, Ludwig's secret books, he would personally torture them in ways that would make Russia cry.

_Especially _if they knew what kind of books they were, and that he had already sorted out the decent ones from the utterly useless.

He had locked himself up, so that he could concentrate on what had been bugging him. It was on his mind way too much, and he wanted to drop-kick it out of his brain. Or at least figure it out. He understood bits and pieces, but he didn't really get the whole picture.

It didn't feel normal to be so...concerned over something. Nor were the frequency of those dreams normal either. So Gilbert decided to follow his brother's example for a change, and consult a book.

Not that he really _needed_ the books, because he was awesome enough to figure this shit out on his own, and someone as awesome as him sure as hell didn't need _advice_ ...he just wanted a second opinion. Yeah. He had looked through the internet, but always got distracted by one thing or another. He had tried to talk to Feliciano about it, but the Italian was a bit too over-enthusiastic to be of any real help. He refused to talk to Francis about it, more so because he knew the man would never stop teasing him about needing 'help'.

He also absolutely refused to go through magazines, especially since the ones with the crucial information were way too girly for him to even want to be caught within 10 meters of one. He wanted some opinions alright, but he wasn't going to leaf through pages on the proper night creams and home-made sex toys (that looked downright _painful_) to get it.

And then a few nights ago, he had the brilliant idea just to use one of his brother's old books. It had been hard at first to get a hold of all the books, so he could only sneak one or two out at a time. Those had been proven to be useless. However, two days ago, his brother had been, for a change, out on something that wasn't business-related, so Gilbert was left at home. This gave him enough time to drag the heavy box to his room and find a suitable hiding place for it.

Gilbert started leafing through the one that he had fell asleep reading last night (and was thankful as hell that no one had come in to wake him up that morning) looking for the chapter he had left off at. So far, the book was half-decent as much as he hated to admit it. Too bad it had a shitty title. _Decoding Your Heart_? Really? If it wasn't so useful, he'd have used it as fire-place material. Or used it to roll a blunt with Matthew. Either or.

* * *

Matthew loved his brother. He really did. That was one of the reasons they had the largest undefended border. And why Matthew had only spent a week rubbing it into his brothers face that both his national hockey teams were superior (if it had been anyone else, they would be lucky if it was only a month.)

But it was hard to love his brother when said brother had been wearing a shit-eating grin all morning long. Especially since the reason behind said shit-eating grin was just a little bit embarrassing.

Alfred had stayed over at Matthew's the night before their meeting with Germany to help him with some paperwork, and the two had ended up falling asleep in the study in a mixture of fatigue and boredom. Alfred had woken up earlier than Matthew, which had been the start of Matthew's problems.

Matthew had to suffer the entire morning with his brother making fun of him. Even after he emptied pancake mix on his brother's head, Alfred continued his relentless teasing.

And now, with Matthew's place finally cleaned up, Matthew was thinking of the nicest way in the next couple of hours or so before Germany came, to tell Alfred he would be in some serious pain if he didn't shut up.

* * *

_Friendship vs. Love;_

_How to know when the boundaries are blurred._

_Most people mistake signs of genuine friendship for signs of romance. However, there are some things that, as minor as they seem, are better indicators as to whether you are on a more-than-platonic basis with your friend._

He, admittedly, had no need for 'boundaries'. 'Boundaries' were sissy things placed by insecure girl friends/nations. But 'boundaries' also seemed like something that Matthew would use. So Gilbert had to find out if he was blurring the 'boundaries' and if it meant anything. His eyes skipped over the opening paragraphs, filled with useless shit on how people are always hesitant in sorting out their feelings with their friends and that it generally led to miscommunication. Not like Gilbert had read it before. He landed on the list, the list that seemed almost childish. And maybe just a tiny bit accurate.

_1. Do you notice the physical features of your friends? Are you prone to complimenting them?  
In general, friends naturally complement each other on their attractive qualities._

Gilbert tried to imagine Matthew and him giving each other compliments on each other's looks. The younger nation had always said he admired Gilbert's eyes (after the first few months, when he had been slightly terrified of them), and Gilbert always told him that he didn't look as stupid as his brother (that counted, right?), but that was about as far as it went.

_However, there might be a physical attraction if you notice those features more often than not. If you find yourself momentarily lose focus while looking/thinking about their features and complimenting them more in your mind than out loud, it could indicate that you are more invested in the compliment than you would think._

He had to admit, those violet eyes captured his attention more than he would have liked to admit. If Matthew ever caught him staring at his eyes, Gilbert would just say it was an impromptu staring contest, as juvenile as it was.

As fucking lame as it was, Gilbert also really liked Matthew's face. He couldn't really place what about it though. His smile was nice? That sounded pretty corny. His lips? Yeah, those were nice. They looked pretty soft, and Gilbert knew that it was because Matthew religiously applied Chap Stick, something which he teased him for regularly.

The hair. So many times Gilbert had to resist the utterly pansy urge to run his fingers through that hair. It smelled good, and it was soft. Gilbert knew it was because he'd ruffled it so many times.

He remembered a few nights ago, the night Arthur had gone off on a permanent PMS mode and he had found out what Matthew's curl really did. He remembered thinking that Matthew was, well, _cute._But that was probably cute in the way that Gilbird and Kumwhateverthefuckhisnameis was, right? Because there's no way that man, who was a sweaty rage-machine on the ice, who looked scrawny under his hoodie, but was actually rather lean with a narrow build, with amazingly strong forearms, and...

...well, if he thought Matthew was attractive, that still didn't mean shit.

_2. You have found yourself spending more and more time with them. You make excuses to spend time with them, and tend to shirk off other duties to be with them. You also tend to talk more with them than to others, which include late night/early morning calls on a daily basis._

He spent a lot of time with Matthew because everyone else couldn't handle his awesome presence. Or, they couldn't tolerate his constant arrogance, annoyance, and tendency to show up at odd hours as well as Matthew could.

He couldn't help it if Matthew was the only one who wouldn't kick him out, aside from his brother. That was probably why he ended up at Matthew's so often. And, over time, he deemed the blond to be almost as awesome as him, and worthy of his constant company. He would be lying if he didn't say that when he wasn't with him, he actually looked forward to being with him.

For being so quiet and unnoticeable to others, Matthew was actually pretty fun. He had a good sense of humour, and was especially adept at making fun of people in that passive-aggressive way of his. He also put up with most of Gilbert's crazy ideas, even if he was usually hesitant

_3. You get slightly jealous when they are in other's company, seeing them as "competition." You look down your nose at their dates/romantic interests, and always have something disapproving to say about each of them._

Bull shit.

First, Matthew hadn't had any 'romantic interests' for a long time. So there was nothing to be _jealous_about.

And second, Matthew didn't really hang out with anyone outside of his family that wasn't Gilbert. Occasionally Miguel came over with 10 tubs of ice cream, or Lars, with things that were not so legal, but Gilbert had generally always been there.

Gilbert wasn't the type to get jealous anyways. Who would get distracted from his awesomeness for long enough anyways for him to get jealous?

_4. Physical contact between you two has changed over time. A pat on the back becomes a casual hand around the waist, you run your hands through their hair, hugs last longer than they do with other people, you are always sitting close to each other, etc., You also find yourself having the urge to hold their hand, maybe give a small kiss, and the like._

That he could not deny. At all. Even though he was used to the whole seizing-vital-regions thing, stuff with Matthew had already been a bit different.

There had been no seizing-of-vital regions with the Canadian, partly because of the bet they made in that Matthew would _consider_it if Gilbert managed to beat him at a game of 1-on-1 hockey. It had been somewhat of a joke, but they played anyways. Gilbert was actually pretty good at the game, but it didn't stop him from getting completely annihilated by Matthew.

He and Matthew had gotten a bit more... comfortable? With each other, if that was a way to describe it. Gilbert had no regard for personal space in general, so sitting so close to the other person so that he was uncomfortable was a normal thing. Gilbert always found himself slinging his arm around Matthew's shoulders, and while that was an innocent and common enough gesture for him, he found himself doing it more and more often. When they were sitting on a couch, or at a movie, or even while walking. Matthew had also been a recipient of most of his (awesome, manly) hugs lately, because he was the only one other than Feliciano and Francis that didn't push him off. Most of the time anyways.

There was that time when he... no, cuddled was a shitty word. When Matthew clung onto him when they were sleeping, and Matthew was actually kind of soft, and he smelled good and he was also pretty warm and Gilbert was going to beat himself over his head with the gun he kept under his pillow if he kept on thinking such stupid _sugary_ thoughts.

Well, the book had said to analyze _everything._

_You also find yourself having the urge to hold their hand, maybe give a small kiss, and the like._

Gilbert remembered the recent movie they had gone to, and how he wanted to do that whole hand-holding and kissing shit. And how Matthew had fallen asleep on him. And how he had made it more comfortable for him. And how, before waking him up, he had planted a small kiss on his head.

Maybe an iron rod would do a better job.

* * *

"I'm going to beat you up."

"Who's going to walk you down the aisle then?" Alfred said cheerily, prodding Kumajirou with his foot. The bear was resting in the doorway of the kitchen. "Hey fat ass, get out of the way."

"Don't be so mean to Kumalulu. Just step over him. And," Matthew's voice was sour as he followed Alfred in. "There is going to be no _wedding._And if there was, I wouldn't trust you with anything."

"Aww, don't be so mad. I fully understand that you're nervous and this is a big decision for you."

"I will crush you."

"And even Arthur has given his approval. Or we forced it out of him, anyways."

"_Arthur knows?_" Matthew stopped, his jaw dropping.

"Of course he does." Alfred replied, digging through Matthew's cupboards for more food. "You should really stock up on food, you know."

"That's because you and Gilbert eat all of it!" Matthew replied. "And why the hell does _Arthur _know?"

Alfred shrugged, stuffing newfound liquorice into his mouth. "Because it's always good to let the daddy know."

"Alfred."

"Mm?"

"I will kill you."

Alfred just grinned and tossed a bag of pretzels at Matthew.

* * *

_5. You unconsciously apply all your flirting methods towards your friend, whether it be playful groping, certain looks, gentle teasing, etc.,_

Gilbert frowned. He didn't flirt. He was too awesome to flirt. He didn't need to flirt, people just came to him. At the most, he'd need his charming smile and maybe a pick up line or two, but he didn't flirt.

He gave Matthew 'certain looks' but then again, he was pretty sure he gave everyone 'certain looks.'

Groping was Francis' job not his. Sure, he had copped a feel here and there with Matthew, but it was mostly when they were drunk or they were joking around.

And as for teasing, Gilbert made fun of Matthew all the time for it to be an indicator of anything. Matthew was way too easy to make fun of. As much as Matthew made a show of being hurt every time Gilbert poked fun at him, deep down, Gilbert knew that he actually didn't mind.

_6. You've had a 'special' dream about your friend._

Nothing strange about that. Gilbert was sure he had a 'special' dream about everyone at one point or another. Most nations did, because when you've known each other for so long, things like that pop up, and you don't think much of it. Hell, he even had one with Ludwig in it. However, that one was a bit too influenced by his brother's...tastes, and he couldn't face his brother for a week after that.

_7. You've had many 'special' dreams since then, and some of them have a romantic element._

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. All his 'special dreams' did consist of Matthew these days. He figured it was because he spent so much time with the kid.

Hmm. Romantic elements. Gilbert, for once, decided not to lie to himself as he walked through all of his dreams. It was hard to pick out "romantic elements" though. As hard as it was to go through all your wet dreams that involved your best friend.

As Gilbert went through his mental files, he realized that there were more of those than he thought. The dreams, not the romantic elements, mind you. Because only pansies had an abundance of 'romantic elements' in dreams.

The most recent one, from last night actually, consisted of him getting high with Matthew and they got it on in an igloo while his polar bear stood guard and Gilbird chirped to that 80's power metal ringtone of Matthew's. Gilbert was pretty sure that wasn't really romantic.

Then there was one with Kumajirou and Gilbird...but that was their pets, and not them, so it didn't count right? And Gilbert would rather not dwell on that one, because he felt a bit dirty thinking about that.

Conference rooms. There were also those conference rooms. Those too were more lust-driven than romantic.

There was that one, straight out of a shitty romance novel, where they were on a camping trip in the woods near Matthew's place. In that, he pointed out that the moon made Matthew's eyes look ethereal, right before they went at it under the stars. Yeah, that was pretty romantic. Gilbert grimaced. _Too_romantic. Almost _girly._

Two nights ago, he had a dream that that they were in a hot tub, which was awesome. The candles and petals in the water were definitely not though. However, his unawesome dream-self thought so.

And then the one where they had dinner in a fancy restaurant and... No, that dream was purely...whatever it was. There was no sex in that one. Hard core making out, yes, but no sex. That was because Gilbird had woke him up, or there would have totally been sex. Because Gilbert was too awesome for such...sickeningly sweet dreams.

So what if his dreams where just a little bit a Matthew-centric, and so what if they were just a little bit on the cheese ball side?

_8. You haven't had a romantic interest in anyone else since the first 'special' dream._

Oh.

* * *

"Alfred, I'm asking nicely, again." Matthew said, looming over his brother. He had pinned down Alfred with a foot on his chest, and was holding a hockey stick. "Will you _please_drop it."

"Lo_ser._"

* * *

The more Gilbert read and re-read the rest of the list, the more it seemed to indicate lust rather than...more-than-platonic-emotions. If that was what the case was, then he had the other book to refer to. He picked up the book, which was nearly falling apart with the amount of use that it had gone through.

He rummaged for the other book in his "decent" pile, the one he knew worked because West had used it, and if it was good enough to get through his thick head, and it was good enough for Gilbert. He opened the book, _Communicating with Your Partner_, to the bookmarked paged that was definitely bookmarked by his brother and not him.

Well he knew that he and Matthew weren't _partners_ but according to the last book he read, there was definitely something going on between the two. According to _that_ book, he held more than platonic feelings towards the nation, but he had yet to figure out what those were. And if, according to that book, he had more-than-platonic feelings, he needed (no, not needed, just wanted an opinion), on what to do with Matthew.

_If Your Partner Is Canadian_

Gilbert frowned, something he had done often in the past few days.

But he already knew what to do if he wanted to impress Matthew. All he had to do was show up, really. Who wasn't impressed by his awesomeness?

He scanned the list, and amongst it where things such as good beer, tickets to a hockey game, and maple syrup. He already knew all of these things made Matthew happy. And he also knew that Matthew saw them more as a gesture of good friendship than of romance. If he were to do something to impress Matthew, he'd have to think a little bit more outside the box.

Then again, what if he was just getting a bit ahead of himself? What if he was taking everything too seriously. He didn't want to just jump into things. He was awesome and everyone loved him, yeah, but he wasn't sure if Matthew loved him in _that_ way. He didn't want to put his friend in an awkward situation, and even risk ruining their friendship. The kid would be too embarrassed to ever talk to him again, if the feelings weren't mutual and Gilbert just jumped in head first. Gilbert valued their friendship a lot. He didn't remember the last time he had someone he could be himself with, without them pointing out he was too arrogant for being a dead nation.

...Aaand he couldn't remember the last time he cared so much. He also couldn't remember the last person who drove him to lame measures such as reading advice out of books.

_Huh. _Gilbert thought. _So I do have feelings for the kid._

* * *

"Passive aggressive, my ass." Alfred grumbled, holding the ice pack to his cheek.

"I'm sorry Alfred! I didn't mean to-" Matthew started to apologize but Alfred waved it off.

"You don't beat someone then apologize, Mattie. You need to be more assertive. "

"Wh- Didn't the last fifteen minutes say anything?" Matthew. After Matthew had his little episode in the kitchen, they had migrated to the living room while Alfred complained about his bruises. Now they were sitting on the sofa while Matthew examined the damage.

"Being aggressive and assertive are different. That wasn't being assertive, that was just a batshit crazy attempt to beat me up because I mentioned your undying love for Gilbert."

Matthew smacked Alfred's arm.

"I hate you."

"Because you're too filled with albino love."

Matthew winced at how mildly perverted that statement sounded.

"Well I wouldn't hate you if you weren't being so irritating the whole morning."

"Dude," Alfred turned to him, his irritable grin growing again. "I wouldn't have bugged you if I hadn't heard you say what you did."

"It was a dream! I was sleep talking!" Matthew protested. Admittedly, when he woke up, he felt like puking slightly when he woke up, just due to the pure cheesiness of the dream.

"It sounded like a really interesting dream." Alfred winked at him. "Especially the last bit. '_Of course I'll marry you Gil!_' You're so pure you can't even have a dirty dream! I think I nearly peed myself laughing."

Yes, Matthew remembered. Because Alfred's loud abrasive laughter was what woke him up in the first place.

"I hate you so much right now, Alfred."

"I know." Alfred beamed at him. He was about to continue when Matthews phone rang. Matthew took it out, but before he could answer it, Alfred dived for the phone.

* * *

Gilbert was still a bit confused as to what to do.

So he had feelings for Matthew. That was established. That might have been long established, since that night with Antonio and Francis at the bar.

And now what would he do? Should he...confess? No, confessing was for teenage girls and his brother. He needed to do something more awesome. And he wasn't sure what he'd be confessing either. He wasn't sure if it was love or not, because he hadn't been in _love_for quite a while now. But what he did know was that Matthew did something to him. Something pretty weird, and he'd have to somehow corner the kid on his feelings.

Maybe... Just maybe he was just confusing lust and infatuation with love. After all, it wasn't hard to do.

Whatever it was, he'd have to do something about it. But when?

* * *

Alfred looked at the caller ID and then tossed the phone back to Matthew.

"Bo_ring_."

"Hey! Don't steal my phone then not answer it!" Matthew said, glaring at Alfred before he picked it up.

"Hello?"

_"Mathieu! It's me~"_ Francis' tone sounded exuberant.

"Hello papa." Matthew replied "How are you?"

_"Good, good. Did you get my invitation?"_

"Invitation? No, I don't think so. I didn't check the mail this Morning."

_"Ah, well, I am hosting a party in around a week. Everyone is invited, even that obnoxious brother of yours, so it shall be fun~"_

Matthew watched said obnoxious brother pout and smiled slightly.

"I'd love to come. Is Gilbert coming?" The last line had slipped out of his mouth unintentionally and he instantly regretted it. Alfred's shit-eating grin was back at full force while Francis chuckled on the other end.

_"Ohohoho, I can make sure that he does, if you want~"_

"N-no. I was just curious." Matthew squeaked.

"_Whatever you say, Mathieu. Anyways, I would love to talk to you but there is still a long list if people to call. I shall talk to you later. Adieu~"_

"B-bye." he waited for the click of the dial tone then "Alfred, don't even."

"Planning to do something at the party, Mattie?" Alfred smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Matthew looked away, feeling his face heat up. Truth be told, he actually kind of had. After that meeting where he was stuck with Gilbert in the closet, he had done some more serious thinking. And he came to the conclusion that he had to do at least something about this, because he had a tiny little speck of hope that Gilbert also liked him back in that way. The way the albino acted around him was a good indicator, but then again, with a person like Gilbert, it was hard to tell.

He didn't want to outright confess His love (God knew it took him long enough to admit that that's what it was, even after that one time that Alfred had come over) and then get embarrassed and maybe even lose a friend. He knew that if he was rejected, he wouldn't be able to look at Gilbert in the eyes ever again.

"Earth to Matthew!" Alfred snapped his fingers in Matthews face, bringing him out of his daze. "Did you even hear me?"

"Sorry, what?"

"I was asking what you were planning to do about the albino problem."

Matthew had a raging internal debate about whether he should tell Alfred or not. The one for it won, and he gave in.

"I'm going to...um, not tell him directly but...err..." he waved his hands vaguely in the air as if it would give a definite answer but Alfred was not satisfied.

"Go on." he prompted.

"Err...well I'm not going to...you know, outright tell him... But I'll ask him if he wants to...err, hang out one time. " Matthew mumbled.

"...Hang out."

"Yeah. As, um, more than friends. Like you know... maybeadateIdon'tknow. "

Alfred made a face. "You are the lamest thing ever."

"Oh shut up. I'm not that good with being forward." Matthew snapped back but then buried his face in his hands. "Is it seriously that bad an idea?"

Alfred gave him a sympathetic look. As unglamorous as Matthews plan sounded, it actually sounded like it would actually work out. He wouldn't be surprised; after all, all his and Francis' awesome plans had gone to waste and it wouldn't be shocking if the best solution was as quiet and normal as his brother. Trying to hook Matthew and Gilbert had been fun, but in the end, he wanted Matthew to be happy and Arthur to finally shut up.

He reached out and patted Matthews back, giving him a friendlier smile.

"It's an awesome plan. And if he doesn't agree, I'll be there to kick his ass. "

"_Alfred_!"

* * *

Ahh. He knew when to do it.

All he needed to know was what to do.

So he reached for another book.


	16. Preparations

"Ngh...it's too early.." Matthew moaned, reaching for his alarm clock. It had been beeping persistently for the past minute or so. He hit the snooze button completely, but the annoying sound continued. He then knocked it off his bed-side table, but the noise continued.

"Rise and shine, babycakes!" A voice, vaguely familiar.

He thought he heard someone let out a sigh and say something about tact. Was somebody in his bed room? Oh well. They were welcome to make themselves comfortable, because he wasn't waking up any time soon. Even though his eyes were already closed, he pulled the covers over his head. Or tried, because someone stopped him from doing so.

"Hey, wake up!" This time the voice was accompanied by a flick on the forehead. Matthew flinched a little. Whoever did that needed a verbal berating... Right after he got fifteen more minutes of sleep. The person who the voice belonged to would have none of that. Matthew felt something wrap around both his ankles, then a tug, and then he had face-planted right onto the hardwood floor.

He was definitely awake now.

"Oh Mother.." he groaned, rolling over and rubbing his eyes. He was greeted by two blurry but recognizable figures. And once the smell of roses and freshly cooked hamburgers registered in his brain, he knew instantly who it was. Glasses were tossed at his face, and he put them on, bringing everything into focus.

"Alfred? Francis?"

"Holla' bro!" Alfred beamed at him. "Me and Francizzle here thought we'd drop by your crib today. "

Matthew gave a questioning glance to Francis who gave a small sigh at the nick-name.

"His music industry underwent a surge in rap music last night. He's been talking like that on and off since the morning."

"Damn straight! Now get up, we've got to some shit to get done." Matthew glanced at the clock. It read 7 AM, which was way too early for a Saturday morning. He wasn't even going to ask how the two got in, because he knew that they both had a spare key and that Kumajiro was the worst guard dog...bear, ever.

"What?" Matthew asked.

"We're gonna reach some stores today and get ya some new kicks."

"What he means," Francis explained, as Matthew continued to look confused. "Is that we're going to go shopping."

* * *

"Yo, West."

Ludwig looked up at his brother across from the dining table. They had been eating breakfast in relative silence, with Ludwig reading the paper and Gilbert was lost in his own thoughts. Ludwig had been enjoying the tranquility.

"Do you think I'm hot?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, I'm constantly awesome and stuff, but I'm just wondering. Do I look as studly as I should for my awesomeness?"

Ludwig gave a blank stare.

"I... don't notice these kinds of things?"

Gilbert threw a piece of the egg he was eating at him.

"Just tell me!"

"Er...Sure." Ludwig hoped that this would put an end to it, and looked down at his paper again.

"What about on a scale of one to ten?"

He hoped.

* * *

Francis and Alfred stared at Matthew for a second, before breaking out into loud laughter.

"I wasn't paying much attention when I got dressed, okay!" Matthew protested, turning away from the two. The small space they were in already had him feeling really uncomfortable. This just made it worse.

Francis and Alfred had dragged him to a large clothing store near Francis' house. Alfred had said something about Matthew needing more 'swag' if he was going to impress Gilbert at the party tomorrow night. Francis had insisted that they shop near his place, even though Alfred insisted that they went to the one near his place, so that Matthew could look like a 'proper G'.

Matthew just wanted to get the experience over with as soon as possible.

Right now, the three of them were in one of the change rooms of the store with a huge pile of clothes. Francis and Alfred had _insisted _joining him in the change room, mostly to keep themselves entertained while watching Matthew change. They sat on the small bench in the change room, and had been teasing Matthew the whole way through, from the Nickelback t-shirt he was wearing underneath his hoodie to his socks that he had thrown on in a hurry, and hadn't realized were two completely different colours.

The worst, however, was when Matthew had taken off his jeans. He had thrown on a pair of bright yellow boxers, without really looking at them.

Now, as he faced the mirror in shame, a large realistic rooster on the crotch area looked back at him, with a speech bubble telling people to 'ASK ME ABOUT MY COCK'. Really, he didn't even know why he bothered to keep these boxers in the first place, but he knew that Alfred would cry if he hadn't, given the fact that he was the one who had gifted it to him.

"You should wear that more often, bro." Alfred said, wiping a tear of laughter away from his eye. "Maybe you'd be more noticed."

"Not for the right reasons, eh?" Matthew grumbled, throwing his jeans at Alfred's face. His brother kept laughing, but then abruptly stopped as he looked at his legs, eyes widening.

"Err, Alfred?" Matthew asked, slightly disturbed by this sudden mood whiplash.

"_Duuuude._"

"...yes?"

"Are your legs_ waxed_?" Alfred reached down and grabbed Matthew's calf with one hand. "_Dawg__. _These are the smoothest things I've felt in a while."

"Lay off!" Matthew snapped back, kicking away Alfred's hand. "I lost a bet with Miguel, alright!"

"You told me about that. It was _three months _ago!" Alfred replied, laughter starting to resurface. He leaned in and stroked Matthew's leg again. "Y'all be doin' some regular maintainin' here!"

Matthew looked to Francis for help, but the Frenchman had started to chuckle again. "Don't laugh! I know you do it sometimes to, eh!"

"That is true. But it is so _cute _when you do it ~"

"You guys are _not _staying in here." Matthew glared, then grabbed the collar of each man, pulling them out of the change room much against their wishes.

"Stay out. And if you even attempt to get in, I'll...I'll..." Matthew trailed off on his threat, noticing some laughter . Then there was a wolf-whistle. He looked around, seeing other customers muffling laughter, and looked down. He realized he was still shirtless, in his boxers with all of its bright yellow glory, and his mis-matched purple and orange socks. He felt his face burning red, as Francis pulled out his phone to take a picture and Alfred joined in the wolf-whistling.

Stomping back into the change room, and slamming the door, Matthew slunk against the wooden wall, hoping that somehow he could just disappear.

* * *

Ludwig stopped by the door to one of the washrooms on the upper floor. The door was slightly ajar and he could hear his brother's voice floating out.

"Yeah, well you know... I think you're almost as awesome as me. No I think you _are_ as awesome as me, how about that?"

Out of curiosity, Ludwig peered in through the small open space to see Gilbert standing in front of his mirror, chest puffed out and smirking.

"I know you think I'm hot. Who doesn't? So what do you say we ditch this place and y'know..." Gilbert wriggled his eyebrows suggestively to his reflection.

Ludwig rolled his eyes and walked away, making plans to leave the house within the next ten minutes so that he wouldn't have to hear his brother's inappropriate activities.

* * *

After regaining some composure of sorts, Matthew walked out in the first outfit, a pair of white skinny jeans and a lime green polo shirt.

Francis smiled approvingly (he had picked the outfit, after all), but Alfred wrinkled his nose.

"Too gay."

"Alfred," Matthew rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to impress a _man._ I think that's pretty gay unto itself."

"Sorry, that was my Bible belt talking. You still look like a 16 year old girl though."

Matthew looked at himself in the mirror just outside of the changing area and frowned. The outfit was teetering on the adolescent asking-to-get-beat side, and wouldn't help the fact that Alfred and Gilbert teased him all the time for looking like a girl.

He trudged back into the change room to sift through more clothes.

* * *

Ludwig had returned in the afternoon, and saw that his brother had left the house. Happy that he could wouldn't have to face his brother's weirdness for hopefully a couple of hours.

He had decided to clean up the up house, and started in Gilbert's room, so that he could get at least that over before the loud one came home. He was sweeping under the bed, when the broom hit something solid. He crouched down and lifted the bed sheet, and saw an oddly familiar cardboard box with his own writing on it. He pulled the box out and opened it, slightly horrified as he realized what was in it.

His book collection. The one he thought he had hidden away for good. What was Gilbert doing with it?

He picked up the book on top, and leafed through it. There were bookmarks, post-it notes and notes in...his brother's writing?

* * *

The second outfit was just a little bit better... except for the huge expletive splashed across the white t-shirt in black red. However, Matthew wore it just to humor Alfred. He was also wearing a pair of torn black jeans, and chains hanging from the pocket.

"Nice." Alfred grinned.

"Ah, that reminds me of the time when Arthur went through his little 'punk' phase." Francis said,

"Oh, I remember that." Matthew chuckled lightly. "After all those talks he gave Alfred and me about being proper gentlemen, and then he 'rebelled' against the establishment...against himself."

"Yeah. What was his motto?" Alfred asked.

"Fuck the establishment." Francis supplied. "I think."

"So he was basically fucking himself." Alfred laughed. "What a fancy way to say masturbation. Anyways, I think it's a cool outfit, but an outfit with 'Fuck Yeah!' written on it is not meant for seduction."

"Hey, I'm just asking him on a..." Even after admitting it, Matthew had a hard time saying it out loud. "Date."

"Well to get him to say _yes_ you need to be seductive. And as hot as you are, because you look like me, you need to raise your sex appeal if you wanna chop him."

"Chop him? I don't want to kill him, Alfred..."

"He means flirt." Francis said. "He's still talking in that infernal lingo. Just go in and change again."

* * *

"Do I smell seductive?"

"...Let go of me."

"West~" Gilbert complained, keeping his arms around his brother who was struggling against his grip. "I need to know!"

"You...smell like you do all the time. Now will you please unhand me? I'm trying to make some food."

"But does my sexy scent _turn you on_?"

* * *

"Bingo!" Alfred threw his fist in the air. He and Francis immediately got to their feet to go fawn over Matthew. "This one's the best! And it's totally you, too."

Matthew was wearing a pair of black jeans, with a white shirt and a red and black plaid lumberjack shirt. He allowed himself to think that the outfit did look rather suitable.

"You..you think?"

"You look so manly!" Alfred squealed (in a very heroic fashion.) If Matthew didn't know better, he swore he saw stars in his brother's eyes.

"Maybe you should try growing out some stubble, like your papa." Francis said, tapping Matthew's cheek.

"He can't." Alfred replied. "He's not at that stage of puberty yet."

Matthew smacked Alfred's arm. "Shut up."

Alfred smacked him back on his shoulder, and Matthew slapped him. Alfred bopped him on the nose, and Francis broke the two apart.

"Ladies, calm down. We're in public." For good measure, he held onto their wrists. "Now what we need to work on is your posture, Mathieu. For it leaves much to be desired."

* * *

Gilbert trudged through the front door and went straight upstairs without giving a single, obnoxious comment, and had not come down for a few hours.

Later when Ludwig emptied the trash, he found two empty boxes, one that had contained a pack of "Facial Moisturizing Masks for Men" and another an "Exfoliator".

* * *

After making the necessary purchases, the crew had moved back to Matthew's house, where they had proceed to give him 'flirting' lessons in the living room. Francis and Alfred had spent a good portion of the time complaining about how "homely" Matthew looked. Matthew took all the complaints in good-nature, not pointing out that it wasn't his fault he wasn't a man-whore like the other two.

"Do you have tits?"

However, it had been when they had started to fix his "posture" that he started to get irritated.

"Er, I don't think so?"

They had been pushing his back, pulling his shoulders, jerking his head, and all sorts of things that he was frankly getting tired of.

"So don't puff out your chest like that." Alfred pushed Matthew's chest back. "But keep your back straight."

"I don't see why you have to do this to me." Matthew groaned, slumping his shoulders. Francis tsk'd and corrected them for the millionth time.

"Suck it and swallow, bro. It's for your own good. Now walk across the room for me."

Matthew complied, walking across the room.

"No." Francis and Alfred said in unison.

"No?"

"Dude, you gotta have some fire in your walk. You need to walk with some _swag._ Like so." And Alfred walked across the room, with what Matthew swore was a fake but rather bad limp and a slight waddle. Francis crinkled his nose in disdain.

"_Mon Dieu,_ Alfred, he is not a penguin. Mathieu, you must do it like this~" Francis sauntered to where Matthew was standing, and stopped by the boy with a flick of his hair and a wink. "You must do it with charm."

"Ewww." Alfred said, and Francis scoffed. "We don't want him to prance, dude."

"I-I don't think I could do either of those, guys." Matthew said quietly, trying to imagine pulling that off with Gilbert and not having them simultaneously die, one of laughter and one of embarrassment.

"Of course you can! How about you do that victory walk you did at the Olympics? Or when you got to carry the torch? That was pretty hot."

"That was more of an in-the-moment thing..."

If Matthew walked like _that _again_, _he could hope for the best and wish that the ground would swallow him up. Strutting like an arrogant rooster was something best left to... anyone but him.

"Fine. Just walk the way you normally walk, we'll find some other way for you to turn him on."

Matthew sighed. "As I told you, I'm not trying to get him in bed, I'm just trying to get him...to go out."

"_Put _out." Alfred smirked. "You guys like live together anyways, so I don't see the point of a date."

"We do not live together-"

"Yet."

"-And I think it'd be better if we did things slower-"

"Mathieu, I think with Gilbert, you don't need to take things slow."

"-For Me."

Matthew's arms were crossed against his chest, and he was looking at the ground, his ears heating up.

"Unlike you guys, I don't do these kinds of things very often. I don't peruse people romantically on a regular basis."

"Have you ever?" Alfred teased. "That's why we're here to help you."

"Look." Matthew strained, trying to get his point across. "What I'm saying is, it's kind of hard because he's my _best friend. _As in, I don't want to mess up stuff, then have everything awkward. That's not going to work well if I make a fool of myself, eh?"

Alfred and Francis shot him equal looks of pity.

"Don't worry about anything, Mathieu." Francis offered. "Even if you showed up with nothing, you'd manage to get our friend."

"Or if you showed up in nothing." Alfred winked. "That'd work even better."

"Guys! I said something serious, eh!"

"Ohohoho, your brother has a good point, Mathieu. We could gift-wrap you and leave you on his door-step, save us all this trouble~"

Matthew started to back away as the two other men started to slowly advance towards him, wearing identical grins.

"And I bet he'd like it even more if we left some of Mattie's maple syrup with him too."

With a horrified expression, Matthew quickened his pace, trying to reach the front door before Alfred or Francis could get a hold of him.

"We could wrap him up in the old Prussian flag, Gilbert would truly like that~"

"That would be a horrible, _horrible_ idea." Matthew said, his voice growing meek, as he managed to grasp the door knob.

"Sorry, what was that Mathieu? You know, you _really_ shouldn't whisper."

* * *

"Hey, West, have you kissed anyone romantically lately?"

Ludwig looked up from the book he was reading in the small library in the study. He stared at his brother, who had just walked in with a completely serious expression on his face.

"...Why?"

"Because I need hel- an opinion. That's why."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "You need help? For what?"

"Well..." Gilbert started to slowly walk towards the plush armchair that Ludwig was sitting on. "I... need to show someone how awesome I am. I mean, they already know, but I need to y'know.. _show_.. them."

"And you plan to kiss them, _romantically_?" Even being the stoic person he was, Ludwig could feel the corners of his mouth twitch. Seeing his brother being so nervous about something so...fluffy, was highly amusing. "Is this why you've been acting so odd today?"

"You see... _they_ might be the romantic type. I'm too awesome for romance buut..." Gilbert waved a hand vaguely. "Y'know. Don't want to overwhelm them."

"_You _want to _impress _someone?"

Gilbert was right in front of him now. He bent down, propping his arms on the handles of the armchair so that he was face to face with Ludwig.

"If word of this ever gets out, that I'm doing something extremely unawesome like this, I will hurt you."

"..." Ludwig looked unimpressed.

"So, can I practise on you?"

"_What_?"

Gilbert shifted a knee onto the armchair, between Ludwig's legs and leaned in till their noses were touching.

"Well...because.. I haven't kissed romantically in a long time, so please?"

Before Ludwig could form a rejection, Gilbert lunged forward, smashing their lips together. Ludwig reeled back in shock, and Gilbert lost balance, landing on top of his brother and breaking the kiss.

"G-Gilbert! That's improper!" Ludwig managed to stutter, wiping his mouth. Gilbert frowned for a second as he propped himself up using the chair arms again, keeping his knee in place.

"Was it?" Gilbert cupped Ludwig's now burning red face in his hands, a concentrated look on his face. "How about if I did this instead?"

And again, with a definite lack of finesse, he closed the distance rather fast and forcefully, this time using Ludwig's gaping mouth as an opportunity to shove his tongue into his mouth. Ludwig's own tongue coiled back as far as it could, and after a few futile attempts to get it to move, Gilbert pulled off.

"Hey West, you're supposed to be _helping _me here. How can I know if it's romantic enough if you do that?" He patted Ludwig's cheek, laughing at his shocked expression. "I need some tongue from you."

He leaned in again, but Ludwig pushed his face away with the book he was still holding.

"I'm your _brother._"

"_And?_ I'm not asking to fuck you, just kiss you!" Gilbert pouted. Ludwig just glared back at him over the book. "You should be glad you get a taste of my awesome lips anyways."

"I'm _glad _you didn't do anything more stupid. Though I'm not sure how you could top that."

"Kesesese, I know how I could top _that._" Gilbert said, poking Ludwig in the middle of his chest. Rolling his eyes, Ludwig pushed Gilbert completely off him, and he landed on the ground with a thud.

"Don't touch me." He said briskly, as he stood up and brushed his lap. "You are so obscene."

"Pussy." Gilbert stuck his tongue out at him. "You're so lame."

Ludwig's eyes narrowed. "At least I don't need romantic _help_. Any more, at least."

"Boo hoo. At least I don't get them from _books_!"

"Then why did I find a bunch of them stashed away under your bed when I was cleaning? _Bookmarked_? With additional notes written in?" The corners of Ludwig's mouth were twitching again. He turned on his heel, and left the study, and heard a faint curse.

"...Mother _fucker_."


	17. Somewhere Along the Way

Matthew stood in front of the mirror, pressing out the wrinkles in his shirt for the millionth time. To say he was nervous as hell was quite an understatement. He had woken up early that morning, all jittery, though part of that could be blamed on the fact that he was paranoid of Francis and Alfred breaking in again and trying kidnap him and carry out their threat from the other day.

He had gone through the morning in a daze, trying to distract himself by cleaning up the entire house, but it hadn't worked. He kept mulling over the fact that tonight, he'd... well he didn't really know if it could be called asking Gilbert out, because they already spent so much time together, but he wasn't going to straight out confess his love either. He knew that the other man was kind of iffy as well with those matters, so he didn't want to immediately over-whelm him and get potentially rejected.

The afternoon went no better, as he ran through all the possible worst-case scenarios in his head. Even though Alfred and Francis had assured him multiple times that Gilbert wouldn't reject him, Matthew was still really uncertain.

In a last ditch attempt, he even tried staring at his bear's eyelashes, so that he'd have an excuse to miss the party altogether, but it didn't have quite the same effect as it usually did. And after he tried, Kumajirou waddled off to watch reruns of The Bachelor, and he hadn't been able to get the bear's attention since.

Now he was in his walk-in closet, already an hour late for the party. Not that it mattered, since the parties the nations held tended to last into the early hours of the morning, and it was currently only ten. He had spent the time scrutinizing both his wardrobe and his plan of action, both of which seemed kind of lame right now.

He was planning on telling Gilbert something along the lines of him having feelings for him, and if Gilbert didn't die of laughter or push him away, if he would like to go on a legitimate date or something. It didn't have dramatic flourish, but for Matthew, it was perfect. However, for Gilbert it might be a little... lacking.

For the tenth time within the past 5 minutes, Matthew's phone rang, interrupting his train of thought. He sighed and picked it up again.

"Al, I told you, I'm coming."

"How did you know it was me?"

"Alfred," Matthew sighed. "You called me 30 seconds ago."

"Whatever. Anyways, why the hell are you not here?"

"I told you, I'm getting _ready _and-"

"Dude, are you a chick? That's what you said when I first called you two hours ago."

"I am not a girl!" Matthew huffed. "I'm just...just mentally preparing myself."

"For _what?_ Christ, Matt, if you're going to take so long, your albino boy toy is going to either leave or get wasted beyond, and all our work will go to waste."

"He's not my boy toy! And it's only been an hour! Why are you being such a whiny baby? You're so_ impatient_. You're not understanding how hard it is for me..." Matthew trailed off, preparing to go into another 3 hour rant about Alfred's faults. Maybe that would be a good excuse to skip the party. But before he could continue, Alfred cut him off.

"You know what? I'm not going to call you again." Matthew could literally feel Alfred pouting on the other end.

"You do that."

"...You're supposed to be sad about that, bro."

"Right."

And before Alfred could say anything, Matthew hung up.

He rubbed his temples, as he stared at the mirror in front of him again. Maybe he should have grown a bit of stubble like Francis had suggested, so that he didn't look like a preppy lumberjack. He had worn the red and black shirt that Alfred and Francis had approved of yesterday, and had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He dusted his black jeans for the millionth time, and fixed the white fitted t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

He really _did_ feel like a girl for caring so much about his appearance. He also found it lame that he actually liked how he looked in the outfit. He honestly wished he could just show up in a hoodie and jeans like normal, but knew that Alfred and Francis would skin him alive if he did that.

He found his thoughts going back to how he was going to tell Gilbert what he wanted to without making a fool out of himself, when the phone rang. Again.

He glanced at his watch. It had been ten minutes since Alfred's call, so that meant that he had probably annoyed Francis into calling him. He picked up the phone, not bothering to check caller ID.

"Mattieeee, where are you!" The voice on the other end was practically yelling into the phone. Instead of a French accent, the voice had a tinge of German.

"Gilbert?"

"The one and awesome!" replied Gilbert cheerfully. "Where the hell are you? Are you coming to the party?"

"I'm at home... and yeah I-"

"Home?" Gilbert interrupted, his tone changed to annoyed. "What the fuck are you doing _home_? Are you not coming?"

"I am, I'm just-"

"Then get your ass over here!" Gilbert demanded. "I already had a few drinks, which is unawesome because I'm going to out-drink you but that gives you an unfair advantage."

"Eh, Gilbert, I don't think I'll be able to do a drinking competition with you." Matthew said, slightly miffed at repeatedly being cut off.

"What_ever_. Just get over here soon, or else this party's just a stupid waste of my time."

Gilbert hung up the phone with a click, and a small bit of confidence surged through Matthew. Gilbert had just more or less said that the party would be a waste of time without him. _Without him._

Given that Gilbert was the focus of most of his thoughts at the moment, that was enough to get Matthew out the door and on his way to Francis', as slightly pathetic as it made him feel.

* * *

Gilbert hung up and tossed the phone back to Alfred.

"He's on his way."

"Sweet!" Alfred gave a huge smile, dropping the twelve pack of beer onto Lars' lap who in turn glared at him. "I knew he'd listen to you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Who wouldn't listen to the awesome me?""

Gilbert, Lars, and Mathias were seated in a small den on the first floor of Francis' home, and Alfred had been flitting in and out with the group who were currently in the process of getting mind numbingly wasted. He was there mostly to make sure that Gilbert didn't get too drunk, even by nation standards. He didn't want things to get ruined for his brother, who had finally gotten the courage to tell Gilbert what he felt.

So far, he had been doing alright, since Gilbert had only two or three cans of beer. He let Lars and Mathias do whatever they wanted though, and one was already sloshed, singing songs about his axe, to his axe, while the other was just waiting for Alfred to leave so that he could smoke something a little less benign than his pipe.

Now that Matthew was on his way, he could finally ditch the men in favour of something more fun, like trying to wrangle pirated versions of Japan's video games from China.

* * *

"Mathieu!" Francis exclaimed exuberantly as he opened the door to the younger nation. "I have been waiting for you!"

He pulled Matthew into a bear hug, and Matthew nearly choked on the amount of cologne Francis was wearing. Francis dragged him into huge house, which was filled with just about every nation there was. Even Sealand was there, entertaining himself by telling Wy and Latvia about how he was going to grow up to be the biggest and bestest nation in the world.

As they snaked their way through the crowded house, weaving through people, Matthew got the faint feeling that he was being led somewhere. That was confirmed when he collided into Alfred, who was holding a can of beer in one hand and a huge burger in the other.

"Yes! Mattie! You're here!"

"It appears I am." Matthew said, rubbing his forehead. "Wh-"

"Gilbert's in the small den over there, with Netherlands and Denmark, who's a bit gone so I'd be careful if I were you." Alfred said, jerking his head towards somewhere behind him. "He's waiting for you."

"I'm not going to go see him yet!" Matthew said, and Francis and Alfred both stared at him.

"Why not?"

"I..need to build some..."

"Aww, screw your confidence Mattie. You took forever to get here, I think you had enough time to build your confidence." Alfred stuffed his burger in his mouth, and slapped Matthew on the back so hard the other stumbled forward.

"I think _this _will give you confidence." Francis said, flourishing a bottle of wine. While other nations had the ability to pull weapons and dangerous objects out of nowhere, France's specialty was roses and wine, with the occasional condom or two. He had produced two out of the three said objects, pressing one into Matthew's hand and one into his back pocket. Matthew squeaked, and swatted Francis' hand away before he could cop a feel too.

"I'm- I'm not going to be doing any of that!" Matthew exclaimed, but Francis just laughed as he pushed him towards where Gilbert was.

* * *

Gilbert more or less knew what was to be done now.

He had feelings for Matthew, Matthew had feelings for him, and he was sure that they both more or less wanted in each other's pants. Or at least, he wanted in Matthew's pants. _Badly._

And that was what he was going to try to accomplish within the night.

All he had to do was woo Matthew throughout the night, and soon enough, the cute blond would be falling at his feet and he could swoop him up and they could go lock themselves in one of the many bedrooms Francis had.

He decided that he would bother with all those messy details on emotions _after _they'd have their fun.

But why the hell was Matthew taking so long? He had called him a full hour ago and 3 beer cans ago, and the kid was still not here. If he wasn't here, then Gilbert couldn't pull of his awesome plan to get-laid-and-then-some. If he wasn't here, he'd have to spend the party with Lars and Mathias, who, even though they were entertaining in their own right, still weren't Matthew.

"The hero is here, bringing his faithful sidekick!"

As if on cue, the object of his thoughts had stumbled into the den, followed by a louder and more obnoxious version of him.

"Matthew!" He said happily, waving at the younger man. Lars also raised his pipe in acknowledgement, and Mathias, after a moment of trying to remember Matthew, also waved.

"H-Hey guys." Matthew said timidly, raising his hand. Gilbert was sitting on a two-seater, while Lars was on a recliner right beside it. Gilbert had kicked Mathias off the two-seater as soon as he had called Matthew, and now Mathias was sprawled out on some cushions on the floor.

"Come 'ere." Gilbert said, patting the seat beside him. Matthew stood there for a moment, silent, but Alfred shoved him towards Gilbert. Matthew stumbled towards it again, and Gilbert pulled him down onto the soft, plush sofa. Matthew sank into the sofa, and managed to mutter a "How're you doing?".

He was slightly embarrassed at the show that Alfred had put on bringing him into the room, and nearly died when Alfred, with a wink, left the room.

Right after telling Gilbert to "take care of Mattie or I'm going to kick your ass", which elicited loud laughter from the three other men in the room.

Not to mention, in addition to embarrassment, he had to think of a new way to tell Gilbert about his feelings for him. He definitely wasn't going to tell Gilbert anything in front of Lars, who was one of his best friends, and Mathias, who was over every other week to bother him about the Artic.

After Alfred departed, there was a slight silence. Then Matthew looked over at Gilbert and noticed for the first time that his stomach was...bulging?

"Um, Gilbert?"

"Mmyeah?"

"What's...that?"

He pointed towards Gilbert, who looked like he had stuffed something underneath the black shirt he was wearing.

"Oh, that."

Lars pressed his mouth into a thin line, as if trying not to laugh, while Mathias sniggered. Gilbert pulled the most serious face he could.

"That, my unborn child."

Matthew choked, his eyes widening.

"W-w-w-what?"

"You are the father." Gilbert deadpanned, and Mathias burst out into laughter. Gilbert had a hard time keeping his face straight, while Matthew's jaw dropped.

"Before you came, Gilbert was telling us how you got him pregnant." Lars said, trying to contain his own laughter at Matthew's expression.

"T-t-that's not possible!" Matthew stuttered, turning slightly pink. "W-we haven't-"

"Oh, but it is!" Mathias exclaimed loudly, jumping to his feet, waving his hands dramatically towards Gilbert. "The proof is right in front of you!"

"Indeed it is." Gilbert said, patting his belly. "Want to hear it's heartbeat?"

"That's a-okay G-Gil, a-a-okay, I don't need to-"

"Are you denying our love child, Matthew?" Gilbert said, looking hurt.

"You're a _man _Gil! How the hell can you get p-pregnant, eh?"

"He can!" Mathias roared, his voice amplified by the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

"Den-Mathias, it's not possible for a man to be pregnant, eh? Especially when we haven't...you know!"

"Ignore him, he's drunk." Lars said, but Mathias' loud voice drowned him out.

"Are you questioning the great King of the North?" Mathias shouted out the last few words, and jumped.

"My baby!" Gilbert half-screeched, half laughed as Mathias dived onto the couch. He ended up with his face crushing Matthew's vital regions and his feet splayed across Gilbert.

Matthew let out a strangled cry and kicked his legs, trying to get the large man off him while Lars roared with laughter.

"Holy-Ow!" Matthew protested, tears of pain brimming his eyes. "I don't get people pregnant! You're crushing my-agh!"

Mathias rolled over so that he was lying across Gilbert and Matthew, with his legs on Gilbert's lap and his head on Matthew's.

"Matthew!" Mathias gasped, feigning shock. He reached up and cupped Matthews face with his hands, and squished his cheeks together. "How could you forget Hans Island? I didn't go through thirty eight hours of labor for nothing!"

Matthew sputtered in response, trying to move his hands that had also gotten crushed under Mathias.

"I can't believe it, Mattie!" Gilbert wailed, throwing his hands up. "You can't just leave the awesome me here with a bastard child! It's not fair!"

"Its okay, Gilbert. I know how you feel." Mathias said reassuringly, letting go of Matthew. He dropped his head back down in Matthew's lap and patted Gilbert's pillowed belly. "Matt is bad at wrapping before tapping and will abandon you after the baby. He's just a whore."

"It's always the quiet ones." Lars snickered, exhaling smoke. The sweetish scent slightly ebbed away Matthew's pain.

"You guys are horrible. And you're men, you can't get pregnant!" Matthew said indignantly, but he wasn't actually that frustrated. Them being crazy was a good distraction from what he was planning to say to Gilbert eventually. And the pain in his vital regions had finally gone away anyways.

"We can try." Gilbert said, looking at Matthew wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Matthews ears started turning slightly pink as mental images started to creep in.

"Yes, yes we can." Mathias grinned, but Gilbert flicked him on his head.

"Hey, you're not included." he said.

"Of course I am! And so's Lars, right?"

"Totally." Lars replied from behind his haze of smoke. "We'll have a foursome."

"Pfft, that means three out of the four of us will have to be on the bottom." Gilbert said. "I'm not going to be one of them. "

"You can do me and I'll do Lars." Mathias winked, Gilbert made a gagging sound, and Lars rolled his eyes. Matthew let out a little laugh and Mathias continued. "And since _someone _is way too good at getting us pregnant, Matt can be at the very bottom of this all. "

"That sounds kind of complicated to actually pull off." Lars mused. "Four bodies and we're not exactly small. "

"How about a ring of fire then? Blowjob train? Yes?"

"Mathias, you're disgusting. " Matthew frowned down at the man.

Mathias smiled and patted Matthews cheek. "I know. Is it turning you on yet?"

"He's only turned on by me. " Gilbert said in a matter-of-fact manner. "My awesomeness overpowers the very little appeal you guys have. "

"If we're going to have this foursome," Lars said, pointing a pipe towards Gilbert. "I need to smoke a bowl. I don't want to be sober and remember how you look naked. Or how you sound during sex, because if you sound horrible now, I don't even want to _begin_ to imagine. "

Gilbert narrowed his eyes and raise his middle finger up at Lars. "Fuckbag, You just don't want to be overwhelmed by my awesomeness. "

"That's what it is. "

"Dont make me come over there and shove your pipe up your-"

"Hey! Save it for when we get upstairs!" Mathias interjected, and finally rolled off Gilbert and Matthew and lay on the floor. Gilbert pulled the pillow out from underneath his shirt and threw it a him. Matthew heaved a sigh of relief; his legs had been going numb from the weight.

"Fine. " Gilbert pouted, and looped an arm around Matthew's waist, pulling him into his side. "We'll do that. And you guys are filthy, and I'm not sticking anything in either of you so Matthew's going to under me. You guys can duke it out on who's going to be all the way at the bottom"

As an afterthought, Gilbert leaned in and whispered into Matthews ear. "And then when they're distracted, we can go finish off in a room of our own."

Matthew squawked in surprise, going red as Gilbert laughed and Lars sniggered. Maybe he shouldn't have let his nerves build up through the day. Then he wouldn't have felt like his brain would short circuit at any moment.

"But then I'd get pregnant _again_!" Mathias whined from the floor.

Gilbert kicked him on the side.

"Deal with it. "

And so the evening began.

* * *

Matthew stayed in the den with the trio during the party, remaining on the couch beside Gilbert. Gilbert hadn't let go of him the whole time, ruffling his hair or punching him playfully, or just generally keeping his arm around him like he had before. Matthew hadn't managed to get the courage to tell Gilbert what he had planned to, but it was slowly building up with every interaction they had. Gilbert had been doing things like playfully groping him, teasing him, and spouting countless innuendos. It wasn't exactly _romantic_, but Matthew knew it was Gilbert and that was good enough for him.

Lars had offered weed to everyone, but only Mathias took up on the offer. Gilbert had said that he didn't want any because he didn't want them "taking advantage of me when I'm drugged and forcing me to be your bitch", while Matthew just wanted to stay as sane as possible so that he could do what he had come to the party to do.

But, booze was never a bad thing. Matthew liked to think of it as a stress reliever, and after a few glasses of strong wine (well, half a bottle, because he was the only one there who would drink it), he was laughing almost as loudly as the rest of them. Or at least, as loud as he could get.

And currently, he had buried his face into Gilbert's side, laughing as Mathias told a story about bothering Norway to the point where the other man tried calling a troll on him but was so drunk he sent an army of dwarves after him instead.

Gilbert was laughing too, but his gaze was directed more towards Matthew. He had had a few drinks himself, but not really enough so he wasn't on the verge of tears like the younger man pressed against him. He knew that the other was probably really tipsy. After all, the bottle was one of Francis', and was nearly as old as the boy himself. It didn't help that Lars was getting stoned right beside them. Hell, the smoke was even making Gilbert a little buzzed.

He could tell, because as Matthew laughed, he had his arm around him, and was squeezing his shoulder and looking at him _affectionately._Affection did not fall under the category of 'sexy' or 'suave', both of which Gilbert was going to try to fall under at one point in the night in order to get Matthew. So Gilbert had to right himself before Lars and Mathias caught him doing something so...weird. He looked at Lars, whose head was tilted back as he enjoyed his herb, and Mathias, who was a combination of drunk, high, and self-absorbed, and was rambling to himself, not really noticing himself.

Good opportunity.

He brought his hand up to ruffle Matthew's hair, and 'accidentally' brushed against Matthew's special curl. Nothing major, just a slight enough contact to make him go slightly limp against Gilbert. Matthew looked up, his face slightly flushed.

"Gilbert, what are you doing?" He hissed. Gilbert looked down at him, and gave him his best seductive grin.

"Nothing. Why?" He said nonchalantly, and continued to ruffle Matthew's hair and flicked the curl with his thumb. Matthew tried his best to frown at Gilbert.

"You're cruel." He said quietly.

"Kesesese~"

Gilbert was about to pinch the curl, and roll it between his fingers and then-

"Holy shitcakes guys! We're out of booze!" Mathias' loud voice interrupted, Mathias deciding to come back to reality for a moment or two. Lars grunted in response, while Gilbert glared at Mathias for interrupting him. Matthew used this opportunity to jump up off the sofa, away from Gilbert's grip.

"I'll-I'll go get it." He said, wobbling slightly as he walked. "I'll go get a few bottles."

"And then you'll drop all of it on the ground and we'll get in shit." Gilbert snorted, also getting up and following Matthew out the door. "I'm coming with you."

Though, honestly, he just was going to get some alone time with Matthew.

* * *

They were standing in the second "kitchen", staring at the huge cabinet slightly above. This kitchen was old, and was by the old servant's quarters-turned-entertainment-rooms. What, in a normal kitchen, would have contained maybe cutlery, or sugar and spices, was filled with bottles. Bottles and bottles of alcohol, of all different varieties. During parties, nations usually sacrificed a room in their house so that guests could bring all sorts of "party favors", but Matthew got the vague feeling that Francis didn't really need to ever 'sacrifice' this room.

Gilbert seemed focused on picking out various drinks, while Matthew was fixated on something completely different.

He considered himself somewhat decent at reading the atmosphere, and was pretty sure of what the "atmosphere" was during the party. If he was correct, which he hoped to the high heavens he was, then Gilbert had been...well...doing _something_ during the entire time he was here. Gilbert had been acting the usual way for the most part, but there was something there that Matthew couldn't place a finger on. Something...well, something _different. _Aaand the fact that Gilbert had played with his curl added to the whole thing.

Hopefully, he wasn't getting too ahead of himself, since he had only been here for a couple of hours.

Matthew thought it would be way too soon to actually tell Gilbert what he had been planning to say, but he needed to do something.

So Matthew decided that he should, in turn, make a move, now that they were alone. Or try to. Or at least attempt to try to. He would try and slightly step it up, and try and flirt with Gilbert.

Flirt. That word alone made Matthew wince, because it was something he wouldn't really associate with himself. He was good at chatting up people when they noticed him, but when it came to something like flirting, he didn't really indulge in it. That was more in his brother and French father-of-sorts' department. But he figured that it was something that would work very well in this case.

Matthew contemplated whether it really would be a good idea. He had watched Francis enough to have a vague idea on what to do, but he couldn't imagine pulling all of that off without looking like an utter fool. He of course had the nice-guy act and the normal humans that occasionally hit on him, but he never actually really _flirted _with anyone. It always felt odd and sort of unnatural.

Maybe if he did things less flamboyantly than certain members of his 'family' tended to do, he would be able to actually have a chance at succeeding.

If he took it slowly, he would have the chance to back out if Gilbert didn't really react, without looking like an idiot.

Well, it couldn't hurt, could it?

At the most, he had drank not a lot but enough that if he did anything truly stupid, he could always blame it on the fact he was getting tipsy. And the fact he had been sitting beside Lars while he was in the process of getting thoroughly stoned. After all, that was his excuse for staying so close to Gilbert in the den. Even though his train of thought was clearer than he let on, he wasn't going to let anyone know anytime soon, lest anything go wrong.

So Matthew decided to give it a try, because that was better than doing nothing what so ever.

Mustering some courage, Matthew leaned forward with his hands behind his back and rested his head on Gilbert's shoulder. Gilbert had done that to him multiple times, but it felt sort of weird and different doing it to him. Gilbert looked down at him questioningly, and Matthew fixed his gaze in front of him towards the cabinet.

"Oh, I don't know Gilbert. Which ones do you want?" He bit his lip as if he was thinking hard.

"What about..." Gilbert trailed off, and watched the slightly shorter man chew his lip. Why could he feel his thoughts starting to freeze? "Uh..."

"Hmm?" Matthew hummed, shifting his weight slightly, feeling his body brush gently against Gilbert's.

After a moment of silence, Matthew looked sideways at Gilbert, still biting his lip, who snapped out of his slight trance. Matthew didn't know if it was a trick of the dim lighting in the kitchen or what, but he saw a slight blush dust across Gilbert's face. He took it as motivation to continue. He slightly leaned against Gilbert's neck, enough for his hair to brush the other's jaw. "Which ones should we get?"

"Er...Well...I know Francis has some of my good beer here so we're getting that." Gilbert tried to refocus on the array of drinks in front of them. He would definitely not let Matthew do all the seducing here, because _he _was the one that was the king of awesomeness here. "Lars wanted some gin and I think at this point Mathias will take anything we'll give him."

Still keeping his head on Gilbert's shoulder, Matthew reached in front of the two, gently pressing himself against Gilbert's back, and pulled a bottle out the cabinet. "How about this? I think Scotch should be good."

He set the bottle down on the counter in front of them, then reached over again.

"Here's the gin...maybe some wine?"

He was slowly growing more confident, leaning in more as he set down bottles one by one in front of them. Gilbert stared the whole time.

"Planning to get trashed?" He asked finally, raising an eyebrow. Deciding it was enough, Matthew stepped back, holding a bottle of rum, and when Gilbert turned around, he gave what he hoped was a slight smirk. Gilbert mirrored the expression.

"Maybe. Weren't you going on about something involving out-drinking me for a change?"

"For a _change_? I think I out-drink you on a regular basis." Gilbert said, crossing his arms. Matthew laughed lightly. "Hey! Don't laugh!"

"I don't remember that happening the last couple of times." Matthew said, grinning.

Gilbert frowned and stuck his tongue out.

"Don't get snarky with me, young man."

Matthew laughed again, as Gilbert turned back to the cabinet.

"It's okay. You're getting old, I know. It's hard to keep up."

"Fuck you."

"If that's what you want." Matthew said teasingly, then suddenly realized that the last line might have sounded like he was coming on a bit too strong. He cringed internally as he saw Gilbert stiffen for a moment, but then the other man mumbled something about stupid teenagers as he pulled down the remaining bottles from the cabinet, and Matthew relaxed. He caught a glimpse of silver and saw that the chain which held the Teutonic cross around Gilbert's neck had come undone. The hook had slipped out of the clasp.

And it gave Matthew a slightly bold idea.

"Hey...your little necklace thing is loose."

"What?" Gilbert reached backwards and pinched the chain between his fingers."Damn it."

"Here, let me get that for you." said Matthew, reaching out for the chain. Gilbert turned around the same time Matthew got a hold of the two ends so that he was staring down the blond, who held the clasp and the hook at the front.

Matthew blanked out for a second because of their close proximity, but somehow managed to bring his attention back to the task at hand. He fiddled with the chain, trying to hook it into the clasp. However his coordination was not that great as it could have been, and he fumbled, all while keeping his eyes fixed in on the albino's neck. He definitely was too nervous to see what expression Gilbert had on.

He finished the hooking the latch back and turned the chain around so the cross was at the front. He picked up the cross and examined it, slightly tugging Gilbert towards him while he did so.

"There." he slightly smiled, finally making eye contact with the other, without dropping the cross. Oh yes, he was definitely getting bold. Gilbert was staring down at him, his mouth slightly parted for a moment before it grew into a smirk.

"Thanks." He said, leaning in slowly. The slight smell of alcohol drifted past his nose, and Matthew tried really hard not to let his breathing falter, keeping the smile on his face. Big moment time.

Their foreheads bumped, and Matthew's smile grew a bit bigger and a bit more confident and they were getting just that much closer and someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Matthew jumped back from Gilbert, who looked a little less than pleased as he turned to the doorway to face Arthur. Arthur himself held a look of great disdain.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."

"You better be-" Gilbert started, but Matthew cut him off.

"O-oh you weren't interrupting anything!" Matthew stammered, turning slightly red. "It's okay! Really!"

"I'm sure of it, boy." Arthur said, glaring at Gilbert. "I just came here to get the whiskey."

"Y-yeah? Um, it's over-over here." Matthew said, picking up two rather large bottles from the pile that he and Gilbert had made. He really wished that he was capable of forming more coherent sentences, but was way too embarrassed.

Arthur's eyes were still icy as he took the bottles. However, in the next moment, as if he was some how hiding somewhere the whole time watching them, Francis swooped in to the rescue.

"Arthur!" He said, flinging an arm around the shorter man. "I've been looking for you!"

Arthur raised a furry eyebrow in his direction. "You were?"

"Of course, of course! Why I was thinking that maybe you and I could..." and he trailed off, starting to list the various things they could do, and it was Arthur's turn to go incredible red and sputter angrily. He ended up trying to choke Francis as he was dragged out of the kitchen, still shooting angry looks at Gilbert over his shoulder. When they were out of sight, Matthew tried to regain his composure, his face slowly returning to his normal colour.

He also noticed that Gilbert was staring at him very intently.

"Gilbert?"

"...So are we going to continue this or what?"

Matthew did a slight double take at those blunt words.

He was pretty sure he heard a bit of frustration lacing Gilbert's voice. When Arthur had walked in on them, he felt the little confidence he had going drain from him, so he couldn't really bring himself to 'continue' whatever.

He scooped up a few bottles off the counter, and looked at Gilbert.

"Continue what?" He asked, with what he hoped was an innocent expression, then turned on his heel to leave the kitchen with his armful of alcohol.

And before he left, he smiled as he swore he heard Gilbert mutter under his breath.

"Fucking tease."

The thought that they had actually _started _something was enough to bring a small smile to his face.

* * *

**google the Hans Island dispute. It's hilarious.**


	18. On and on

"Wow, you're burning up." Lars commented. "This ice cream's melting so fast, I don't think it'll stay."

"Not if we put more!" Mathias grinned, digging the big soup spoon into the tub again. There was a click and a flash as Alfred took a picture.

Matthew had stopped questioning a long time, how, at parties, he always got into questionable situations. He assumed it was his ability to end up somehow in the company with the nations with the weirder personalities.

Such as the hyper and stubborn one, the one who smoked more weed in a week than he did in a month, and his loud and annoying brother, who he had the immense misfortune of being related to.

Oh and of course, the egotistical albino, whose fault it was that he was in his current predicament. And who was currently pinning him down to the floor, as the other two smeared ice cream all over his face.

After they had come back from the kitchen with all their booze, a drinking competition had immediately been set in place within the four of them. The first person to lose had to submit to a dare chosen by the winner. The fact that everyone was on different levels of sobriety making it a mismatched contest And they didn't choose one specific drink did not deter them.

Matthew had tried to keep on top of the competition, with a slight dread as to what the others would make him do. Matthew's nerves had been fluctuating, which didn't help him at all.

Mathias, though drunk, managed to drink even more, proof that the bodies of nations did have insanely high tolerance levels. Matthew had managed to still keep going, since he had been the most relatively sober amongst the group.

Somewhere in all of this, Gilbert had nudged Matthew and lifted his shirt up to reveal his stomach and with a wink and a piece of lime in his mouth which he had produced from nowhere, and offered Matthew a body shot. Matthew had no idea why he agreed, but it probably had something to do with Lars and Mathias egging him on and threatening, saying that if he didn't and either of them won, they'd have him doing body shots off all three of them in more inappropriate places.

So Matthew had found himself on his knees, staring at Gilbert, who was shirtless and lying on the large coffee table pushed directly in the middle of the small den, propped up on one arm with the wedge of lime between his teeth and a purely wicked expression. A small part of Matthew vaguely thought that this was payback for the small stint in the kitchen. When they had come back, Matthew had acted innocent, as if nothing had happened, and Gilbert was just slightly disgruntled.

Gilbert knew for _sure_it was payback.

Matthew hadn't been able to keep the hand holding the tequila steady, and nearly broke the glass when it was stated that he would have to pick where to take the body shot from. He had stuttered and protested, but no one would hear it.

With slight trepidation, he had dipped his head and hooked his tongue into Gilbert's belly button, which he had assumed was the safest place. Even if Mathias had said something about excessive lint. As soon as his tongue had met with Gilbert's skin, his brain temporarily shut off, and he remained there, face on fire and his tongue frozen in Gilbert's navel. He was like that for a full fifteen seconds, before someone extremely loud and extremely Alfred traipsed into the room to check on his brother.

Gilbert had chosen that moment to throw his head back and moan, telling Matthew that he had hit _just the right spot_, and Matthew's head collapsed onto Gilbert's stomach. His voice was muffled against Gilbert's warm skin, as he muttered something about how he couldn't continue, and didn't mind losing the contest. The four others roared with laughter, and Matthew wished that the Earth could open up and swallow him.

Alfred joined the trio, but not the contest, since he already had a 12-pack of cola that he wanted to get through first. Mathias had given up shortly after, and after making a big show (and a few drinks), Lars had conceded defeat as well. Surprisingly, none of them had looked upset as they usually did when Gilbert managed to beat them. And since Gilbert was the one who won, he was the one who got to choose the fate that Matthew would suffer.

Gilbert had thought long and hard for all of 5 minutes with what to do with Matthew, the other three men throwing in rather obscene and lewd suggestions. Matthew sat on the far edge of the sofa they had been sharing, staring at his feet, and wishing Alfred would stop repeatedly saying that thing about maple syrup and Prussian flags, and that Gilbert would stop looking like he was actually contemplating it.

After much inner turmoil, Gilbert had whispered something into Alfred's ear, and with a glint in his eye, the blond traipsed off to the kitchen. After that, Gilbert beckoned Matthew over.

"Yo Mattie, come sit on my lap."

Still keeping his eyes to the ground, Matthew fiddled with his thumbs, and mumbled a no. Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

Matthew slightly shook his head, and Gilbert sighed and shrugged. Ignoring the protests of the others, Gilbert didn't press the matter further.

Instead, he leapt across and tackled Matthew, bringing the other down to the floor with a loud thud.

"Ow-shit! Gilbert!"

Matthew struggled against Gilbert, who had thankfully put his shirt back on, and who laughed as he continued to use his body weight to pin Matthew down to the ground. Lars and Mathias had made their way over, and held Matthew's flailing wrists down. Everyone, like usual, just ignored Matthew. Gilbert got comfortable, sitting upright on Matthew. Alfred had come back with two huge tubs of strawberry and vanilla ice cream, three ice cream scoopers, and one big soup spoon.

Which brought Matthew to his current predicament.

As his face felt frozen from the dessert, and at the same time felt like it was going to melt off due to embarrassment, Matthew wondered why everything he normally did was mundane, while this whole "get-your-best-friend" thing was pretty fucking insane.

"Aww, Mattie~" Gilbert cooed, as he trailed his finger through ice cream on Matthew's cheek, then licking off the stuff from his finger. "It's like someone came on your face."

At the most, Matthew could give an angry glare, because he was sure slowly dying on the inside due to shame. To round it off, Alfred had taken pictures with that infernal phone of his, and on top of this, Matthew had to find ways to possibly delete those photos before they made their way to Japan or Hungary.

He also wanted to question why on earth he was getting ice cream smeared on his face, neck, arms, and anywhere else on his body that was exposed. He instantly forgot to, as Gilbert leaned down and gave a small lick to his cheek.

"The fuck, Gilbert?"

"Hey, it tastes good." Gilbert said, grinning, and then took another swipe, this time off Matthew's neck. Matthew started to squirm again, and then the others decided they wanted a taste as well. Matthew wondered if tonight, he could ever get him and Gilbert away from the others, because he would love to the outcome of tonight to not be a four-maybe-five-if-Alfred-decided-to join-way.

Surprisingly, Gilbert was thinking the same thing, and was thinking of ways to tell the others to fuck off so that he could have Matthew to himself, because the amount the blond was turning him on was ridiculous.

First person he needed to get rid of was Alfred. Because as good it was that he had provided both ice cream, and Matthew at the beginning of the party, Alfred gracelessly scooping ice cream off Matthew's face with his hands was sort of a mood-killer. Then, Lars and Mathias, because they were encroaching on his awesome seductive antics.

So he thanked Old Fritz when China had walked in, looking for Alfred, holding a stash of what looked suspiciously like Japan's 'secret' games.

"Is Alfred here?" Yao asked, then pausing as he saw the scene. Gilbert was sitting on Matthew, while Alfred had the blond's face cupped. Mathias and Lars were each holding an arm each, both about to lick the ice cream off a wrist. "...I suppose this is a bad time, aru."

Alfred jumped up to his feet instantly, another thing Gilbert had to be grateful for.

"Not at all!" He said, beaming. "Not at all. What do you want?"

"Er, well, I have what you had asked for, aru."

"You do? Sweeet!"

Alfred made his way to the doorway, when someone said rather loudly.

"Arrfred, thanks for bringing the ice cream, aru!"

Yao frowned, turning around.

"Are you making fun of me, aru?"

Alfred kept his mouth shut tight, because laughing right now would mean he wouldn't get his stuff from Yao.

"I don't know what you're saying, aru." Gilbert said, grinning as Yao narrowed his eyes.

"Don't be rude, Gilbert." Matthew began, but Gilbert pinched his nose to keep him quiet.

"It's okay Matthew, I'm not doing anything." And then, as an afterthought, he added. "Aru."

"Shut up, aru!" Yao said, definitely not impressed.

Alfred slung and arm around the shorter man, and started to direct him out of the room. Yao shot back a dirty look as Gilbert yelled "Goodbye, aru!", and Matthew used the temporary distraction to heave himself up, pushing Gilbert off him. He pried himself from Lars and Mathias' grip, and stood up, giving his angriest glare at the three inebriated men. He could feel ice cream slowly dripping down his shirt, and curse Gilbert out for putting him through that.

"I can't believe you did that!" He exclaimed, but instead of an apology (not like he'd been expecting one anyways), he got laughter in response. So he flipped them the bird, and proceeded to stomp out of the room, muttering things about death via hockey. Not before he heard Gilbert call out.

"Dude! Don't leave!"

Matthew slightly smiled as he left.

"I'll _consider_ coming back." He called out over his shoulder.

* * *

"Hey, guys." Gilbert said, after Matthew left. "Want to do the awesome me a favour?"

He had taken back his place on the sofa, while Lars had sunk back into the recliner. The coffee table had been pulled close enough to the sofa so that they could set their drinks on the table, and Gilbert could use Mathias, who was currently sprawled across the table, as a foot rest.

"And leave?" Lars replied.

"Pretty much." Gilbert said, taking a swig from his mug of beer. His brother had done something right for a change, and brought a keg to the party. Which held what was both their favourite beer. His brother had even come in with a sizeable mug for him, and then told him to not come home tonight. Which Gilbert wasn't going to anyways, not with his plans to get laid. This had put him in an even happier mood, but Lars and Mathias were still there, being two big obstacles.

"Hmm, I don't know." Mathias mused, propping himself up onto his elbows and stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'm having some fun."

"Especially with Matthew." Lars snickered, and Gilbert shot him a very dirty look.

"You guys are being total cock blocks. If you weren't here, I would have totally been getting laid right now."

"Yeah, totally our fault." Mathias snorted. "Are you even sure he'd want to do that?"

"Why not? It's with me, I think anyone would." Gilbert said, adding "And that's what seduction's for anyways. So I don't have to ask."

Lars rolled his eyes.

"For someone so awesome, you seem to be taking things _very_slowly. And I'm not even talking about this party."

"Well, go fuck yourself." Gilbert picked up one of the ice cream spoons on the table and chucked it at Lars, who ducked, laughing. "And _leave._"

"We'll think about it." Lars said, a slightly smug look on his face, and Mathias grunted in agreement.

* * *

With his face scrubbed clean, and his hair slightly damp from washing out the ice cream, Matthew returned to the den. His confidence was also slightly renewed, since he wasn't covered in the sticky sweet stuff anymore, and didn't look like, as Gilbert had said, "someone came on your face."

All in all, the party was going alright. And now that he was sure that Gilbert was somewhat feeling something to, he had to think about where he'd go from there. He had no idea, but he was sure that the quicker he got back to the den, the quicker he'd get one.

So he stepped back in, carrying himself a bit taller than he had before. He didn't saunter into the room like Francis and Alfred had previously instructed, but he knew that this walk had some girls in the crowd at the Olympics swooning at the opening and closing ceremony. He knew because Alfred had pointed it out gleefully, and Gilbert had pretended to be mad at him for a whole week for "cheating" on him.

Gilbert definitely noticed the walk, but decided not to let it show, since as he established before, he was the awesome one here, therefore the one doing the major seduction.

Instead, when Matthew tried to take a seat beside him, he pushed him off.

"Eh?"

"That's my side." Gilbert said, giving a crooked smile. "You can't sit there."

"What the hell? But you're sitting on my side, Gil." Matthew's posture faltered for a second, confused.

"And?"

"How am I supposed to sit then?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"Why don't you move me off, then? Or did you have too much to drink, _Mattie_?"

Matthew definitely caught both the inviting tone in Gilbert's voice and the inviting look in his eyes, and raised one of his own eyebrows.

"Fine."

He could work with this. Yes, he could really, really work with this. He walked around the coffee table to the other side of the sofa, where Gilbert was sitting. He knew he couldn't really just give up an opportunity like that.

"I'll take it back myself." Alright. Seductive smirk on, and thankfully that action was reciprocated. Look Gilbert straight in the eye. Matthew knew he could do this, and stepped towards Gilbert, leaning in at the same time.

Except Mathias' foot had been jutting out, the man being taller than the coffee table was long. Matthew tripped over this, and the result was less graceful than he would have liked.

"Fu-"

This was why, instead of leaning in, and then pulling Gilbert off the couch, he fell straight into the silver-haired man. Gilbert caught him, and let him fall gently onto him instead of the body-crushing blow that the fall would have been. Matthew's head landed on Gilbert's shoulder, his teeth jarring slightly. When Gilbert had caught him, he had grabbed onto the most available part at the moment. Which happened to be his ass. Which was also still being held on to?

Feeling like a teenage girl trying to tell her boyfriend that she's not quite ready to go to third base, Matthew buried his face into Gilbert's shoulder. He didn't really know what to say, so he just remained there, trying to make himself magically disappear.

Shit. No one from above liked him, and this was why everything was just so embarrassing in this party.

"This is really awkward." Matthew finally offered, his voice muffled against the crook of Gilbert's neck. He didn't know whether it was due to embarrassment or the fact that Gilbert just felt comfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Speak for yourself." Gilbert winked, patting Matthew's bum. Matthew was sure he was going to get a third-degree burn from the amount he was furiously blushing. He felt himself starting to slowly slide down and off the couch, but Gilbert put his arms around him, preventing him from moving.

Matthew couldn't help himself, and lifted his head to look directly into Gilbert's eyes. He felt really stupid and sort of sissy in that position with a slight dumbfounded look on his face, but that was over-ridden by the look Gilbert was giving him.

Matthew mused about whether or not to shift into a more attractive position which didn't involve him using Gilbert as support so he didn't go sliding off the couch, and could possibly have some good results. He was interrupted by a thud, which brought back the reality that they were sharing the room with two other people.

Much to Gilbert's dismay, Matthew immediately rolled off Gilbert, embarrassed. Mathias had just "officially passed out" and had fallen off the table. Miraculously none of the drinks that had been set on it had been harmed. Lars had also noticed the thud, and looked quiet unimpressed.

"Fucking bastard." he grunted, heaving himself off the recliner. "Guess I'll have to get rid of this."

He stumbled slightly towards Mathias, then bent down, picking up Mathias' feet, and started to drag him across the floor. Matthew swore that he heard Lars curse and tell Mathias to just "help the fuck out, lardass." He brushed it off as a trick of the mind.

He also tried to do the same when he thought he saw Lars mouthing "You're welcome" to Gilbert, and when he stole a quick glance at Gilbert, the man had a satisfied looking smile on.

After Lars managed to drag Mathias out of the room, Matthew also stood up to leave, wobbling slightly. He felt extremely awkward being alone in a room with Gilbert at the moment, not knowing whether to talk to him or jump him. His moves were currently slightly impaired and not very smooth so he didn't feel like he'd succeed at either. Turning away from Gilbert, he tried to move towards the doorway.

"I think I should go hel-"

Though, he only managed to make it a foot away from Gilbert.

"No."

Matthew turned his head back to Gilbert. Gilbert had picked his beer off the table and was drinking it, giving Matthew an expectant look over the mug.

"No?"

"You're not leaving."

"I'm not?"

"Nope. Come here." Gilbert commanded, reaching out his free hand and hooking a finger through one of the back belt loops on Matthew's jeans. Time to initiate his smoothest moves. He tugged and Matthew landed gracelessly onto his lap. Matthew looked uncertainly at Gilbert. "Why are you so eager to leave?"

Balancing his beer in one hand, Gilbert used the other to pull Matthew in closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. Gilbert laughed as Matthew gave a small yelp of surprise, giving him a quick peck on the neck and not bothering to draw his head back.

"I thought we were having a lot of fun together." Gilbert said breathing against Matthew's neck. He moved upwards, and whispered into his ear. "Weren't we?"

_Damn_. Matthew's inebriated mind started lighting up, and for once, embarrassment was not the first thing to come to mind. This was rather sudden, but alright, he would do with this.

Feeling slightly courageous, he tentatively raised an arm and looped it around Gilbert's shoulders, and Gilbert grinned, pulling his head back.

"I d-don't want to leave you, eh..." Well that definitely was bolder than he intended. He really did have to thank his good friend, alcohol. Why had he been so iffy about having so much earlier on?

"Yeah? You looked all ready just about then." But Gilbert didn't have an expression of hurt on his face. In fact, he was looking at Matthew in a completely different way.

"W-well I wasn't and...And...I didn't know and then.."

"You," Gilbert cut him off. "Are horrible with words"

"E-eh?"

"Have some of this 'ere." He said, raising the mug to Matthew's lips.

Matthew complied, taking a sip. A swig. Well he drained half of it, but it was for nerves, really. After he was done, Gilbert drank the rest and set the mug down on to the table, and leaned back into the comfortable sofa. With a bit of manoeuvring, he managed to swing Matthew's leg over so that the younger man was straddling him. With a satisfied smirk, Gilbert pulled Matthew flush against him, resting his hands on his hips.

"G-Gil?" Matthew squeaked, his brain and his mouth not connecting very well with each other.

"Mm?"

What was Gilbert doing? And what was Matthew doing with his arms around Gilbert's neck? Maybe he had drunk too much. Maybe he shouldn't have sat near Lars either, because the second-hand high was just as bad. He needed to say something, instead of just sitting in Gilbert's lap with a stupid wide-eyed expression on his face because it was _Gilbert _of people, and he needed to impress him, not be reduced to a sputtering idiot.

Matthew was pretty sure his brain was packing up and getting ready to leave.

"Well, G-Gil...um..."

Right, he had come to the party to say something. Ask Gilbert out? Something like that. He needed to say what he needed to say, what he had planned to say, because that's why Matthew came to the party for, after all. And it wouldn't be very good if he didn't say it, so he should say it and-

Oh.

"Yes, Mattie?" A slight slur.

Gilbert was pulling him in really close.

"Er...nothing."

Matthew, for the life of him, couldn't remember what he was going to say. Because he was drunk, he had a slightly second-hand buzz, and because Gilbert was so close.

Really, _really_ close.

"Maple..."

The corner of Gilbert's mouth twitched at the word.

"Nice."

He was so close that Matthew could feel their alcohol-soaked breath mix.

So close that Matthew could see every speck of colour that flickered through his brilliant red eyes.

"Gilbert?"

So close that..._damn_.


	19. I'd Rather

Arthur rubbed his eyes as he stumbled through the corridor. Francis' house was always too damn big, which was always an inconvenience. Especially when he was half drunk and trying to find the goddamned bathroom that had been just there the last time and-

Thump.

He tripped over someone who was sitting against the wall that he had been supporting himself against as he walked. He managed to not completely face plant onto the ground, and looked down, muttering something that was half way between an apology and a reprimand.

"It's alright." When the person speaking registered in Arthur's mind, he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Missing the party?"

Ludwig shrugged, and slightly raised his mug. "I have this."

"Weren't you with Feliciano?"

Ludwig let out a somewhat tired sigh.

"Romano."

Ludwig nodded, taking a sip of his beer.

"Figured as much."

Instead of continuing his quest for the toilet, Arthur decided to slump down against the wall beside Ludwig and pull out his own flask that had just been refilled with whisky.

The two drank in silence for a while, and then Arthur spoke up.

"Your brother is terrorizing my ex-colony."

* * *

"Eh?"

That was definitely not the first thing Matthew wanted to say after Gilbert had just kissed him, but he couldn't really think of anything else. Since his best friend/crush had just kissed him.

"You tell me." Gilbert replied, a smug look on his face.

When he had stopped the kiss, he hadn't moved back much. As a result, his lips lightly brushed against Matthew's as he spoke, causing the other to grow slightly flustered.

"Um, I...eh..."

Matthew was sure his mind had left on a permanent vacation, instead of processing what had just happened.

"Go on."

Gilbert liked watching Matthew squirm. And since he was holding him in his lap, he rather liked feeling him squirm as well.

"D-do you... Do you..." Matthews's brain fumbled for the words, and Gilbert raised an eyebrow. Matthew turned his head to the side, focusing on one of the sofa cushions beside them, hoping they would supply him with words.

"Do you... want to do that again?" he asked rather meekly. He internally slapped himself for sounding so girly.

"If you turn your head back to me."

Matthew slowly looked back at Gilbert, a small timid smile on his face. Gilbert was pretty sure his own grin was reaching manic proportions.

"...Better?"

Gilbert chuckled and nodded, and he pressed against Matthew again.

* * *

Francis watched approvingly as the two kissed.

_Finally._

Sure, it was a little too laced with liquor, but one couldn't be picky with these kinds of situations.

It lacked the dramatic flair that he would have liked, but the two were finally acknowledging what they had. He was glad that they hadn't decided to smoke with Denmark and Netherlands, because it would have surely led to them doing something incredibly stupid instead of this. Not that they hadn't done somewhat stupid things already but...what ever. They wouldn't have gotten to this point, probably.

He brought out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Alfred and saving it for future black-mail purposes, and left his hiding spot, prancing off to the kitchen for some celebratory wine.

* * *

"Sorry?"

Ludwig blinked, staring at Arthur.

"Your brother. Surely you noticed how he's not around that much with you anymore?"

Ludwig hummed, thinking for a second.

"I suppose. He's with..."

"Canada." Arthur supplied. "He's been hanging around with Canada often."

"Well, I'm glad he's been making more friends."

Arthur sniffed. "It sounds like he's you dog or child or something."

"Might as well be." Ludwig replied nonchalantly, and Arthur chuckled.

"Anyways, I've come under the impression that your brother is in...love. With Canada."

To Arthur's surprise, Ludwig did not look perturbed at the thought. In fact, he looked indifferent as it had been a long acknowledged fact. Arthur cursed inwardly. Was he always the last one to know?

"I think that it's good for Gilbert." Ludwig said, after a while. "That he's found someone."

"To calm him down?"

"He's still as crazy as ever, but it's..."

"Hard to describe without sounding like it's from a shitty romance novel."

Ludwig slightly blushed at the comment, because he was going to quote one of those _shitty romance novels_, one that he had read more times than he'd like to admit. He thought for a moment before continuing,

"They don't have anything holding them back. It's like a relationship between two people, not nations."

Arthur mulled over this for a few moments.

"They've been close friends for only a short time.."

"But they were acquaintances before."

"Correct, but they're not really historically tied. Not as strong as almost everyone else. It doesn't make sense for them to..._anything_... It's almost like they're.."

"Human." Ludwig finished off, looking at Arthur with an arched eyebrow. Arthur looked down at his own flask, as a pregnant pause settled in.

"In the end, maybe it's better that they have no intricate history holding them down." Ludwig sighed finally. "They can be a bit more free with themselves than the rest of us."

* * *

As they kissed, Gilbert decided he rather liked the taste of Matthew's lips.

He could detect traces of the chap stick Matthew had put on, and when he let his tongue flick out between them, he could somehow still taste some of the ice cream from earlier. And when Matthew opened his mouth and easily let Gilbert lead the kiss, Gilbert decided he liked the taste of the Canadian's mouth even more.

Especially when it was tinged with his favourite beer.

Why hadn't they done this before?

Gilbert slid his hands down from around Matthew's hips to his ass. He chuckled at the squeak Matthew let out in their kiss when he squeezed. Gilbert broke off the kiss, and looked at Matthew. His eyes were bright and his lips glistening with a good amount of spit, courtesy of Gilbert.

Gilbert's eyes drifted from Matthew's lips to his neck and his (maybe just slightly sloshed but who gave a damn) mind reasoned that he should stake his claim before Matthew could get too intimidated and back out.

Though the way the blond had been acting and the amount they had drank, he was pretty sure that he wouldn't mind. So he went straight for the kill and attacked Matthew's neck.

"Hey, what are you -" Matthew's eyes widened as he felt Gilbert's teeth on his skin and let out a sharp gasp as he bit down. "Holy- Gil!"

"Mmm." He felt Gilbert's tongue trail over the bite mark as he hummed. Gilbert pressed wet kisses up Matthew's neck. "I want you."

As he continued, Matthew had a hard time thinking of a coherent response to that, and holy _shit_, was that Gilbert's tongue on his ear lobe?

"What do you say, Mattie?"

Matthew found it hard to concentrate on getting his act together when Gilbert was behaving like that.

It wasn't like he didn't want it or something. He was so, so tempted. But he needed to get something out of the way first. He had to tell Gilbert something. It was something he couldn't quite remember at the moment.

Something he completely forgot as Gilbert bit his earlobe and pulled slightly, an action that was coupled with a questioning "Hm?"

He pulled his head back and looked at Gilbert. He didn't really know how to directly say anything, so, finally, with some confidence, he leaned forward and kissed Gilbert.

Or tried, because he missed and hit the corner of Gilbert's mouth. Gilbert laughed, much to Matthew's mortification, and then directed them back into a proper kiss. They sank into the sofa, comfortable.

_Not going too bad_, Matthew thought as Gilbert snaked his tongue into his mouth again and started to gradually sneak his hands up Matthew's plaid button-up. He circled his fingers across the white t-shirt Matthew was wearing underneath, massaging the fabric into Matthew's skin.

Matthew himself was suddenly growing really, really confident. He didn't know whether it was all the substances he had consumed that night, or that Gilbert had said he wanted him and was backing up that statement by tonguing him like no tomorrow.

Either way, the unsurity that had been plaguing his brain all night had simply evaporated.

Booze was _awesome._

So he decided to milk it for what it was worth, and used some of the skill that Francis had managed to pass onto him. He raised both hands to Gilbert's head, lacing his fingers through the silver hair.

And then he tugged. Gilbert gave a small growl As Matthew pulled his head back, pushing his tongue into Gilbert's mouth.

"Mm, fuck." Gilbert said, slightly miffed that he had lost control over the kiss.

"I'm not a wuss, Gilbert. It's not that easy." Matthew said quietly, raising an eyebrow, and Gilbert bit down on Matthews bottom lip hard, pulling it so that they fell back into another kiss. One that his awesomeness would totally dominate.

But damn, was it him or was Matthew being a bit aggressive?

He decided that now would be a great time to actually put Matthew's curl to good use, and gave it a merciless pull. Matthew, who had been trying to shift into a more comfortable position, ended up moaning and sinking into Gilbert's lap. Gilbert groaned out of the kiss.

"Hey." his voice was low and slightly rough. "Matthew?"

"Yeah?"

Gilbert lowered his hand, and dug his thumb into the front of Matthew's waistband, giving it a sharp pull towards him.

"I think you know."

Matthew stared at Gilbert for a second, and Gilbert would be damned if that wasn't a coy smile growing across his friend's face.

"_Do_ I?"

Gilbert eyed Matthew, then his eyes landed on the booze that had been piled up on the table.

"How about I show you?"

* * *

"But Matthew's the normal one." Arthur grumbled after a long silence. "Your brother is bloody fucking nuts. It doesn't make sense."

"I think it is nice," Ludwig replied, tipping the mug into his mouth. "That there is someone who genuinely appreciates Gilbert's...unusualness, and is willing to put up with it."

"You're just happy that he isn't on your arse all the time." Arthur snorted over his whiskey. "He's too busy bothering Matthew."

Ludwig sighed, remembering his brother trying out various methods to impress Matthew on him. "_Osten_ will always find a way to bother me."

"That is true." And they both nodded in silent agreement.

"You know. I don't think you need to worry," Ludwig said after a moment, nodding towards the staircase. "I think...Canada, likes Gilbert just fine."

"Why do you say?" Arthur turned his head to the direction Ludwig had indicated. "_Bloody hell_."

Gilbert and Matthew were trying to keep their balance as they stumbled up the stairs. They were taking turns drinking out of the bottle Gilbert had picked up and kissing the alcohol into the other's mouth. Matthew had been reduced to drunken giggles, while Gilbert had a self-satisfied smirk on whenever the two weren't trying to eat each other's faces off.

"Are you going to do anything?" Ludwig asked.

Arthur looked at his whiskey, then at the two figures that were having a hard time making their way up the stairs. Whiskey. Matthew. Whiskey. He shrugged.

"If Matthew wants to have... relations...with your brother, I'm not in any place to stop them." He said slowly. "I think I'm too drunk anyways."

* * *

They had finally managed to get up to the second floor, and had miraculously gotten there without falling down the stairs. The bottle was empty and long forgotten, thrown down the stairs to trip some other poor nation.

Gilbert tried to remember exactly where Francis' various bedrooms were, and directed the two in the general direction that the nearest one should hopefully be. He found a large ornate wooden door, and guessed that it probably led into one. He leaned Matthew on the wall beside the door.

However, what his mind had planned to do and what he actually did was slightly out of sync, and instead of gently leaning Matthew against the wall, he ended up slamming the blond into it.

"Shit." He slurred. "That was supposed to be graceful."

"It's a-okay, buddy." Matthew hiccuped, slinging his arms around Gilbert's neck. "A-okay."

Gilbert gave a lopsided grin. He ran his hands along his sides, then grabbed Matthew's thighs, hoisting him up against the wall. In turn, Matthew wrapped his legs around him.

"How about we just do it here?" Gilbert breathed, close against Matthew's neck. Matthew hummed at the thought of them going at it right then and there up against the wall.

Oh _God_ would it ever be amazing.

Instead of a reply, he bobbed his head down for another sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, which Gilbert took happily. It was when he heard the faint voices and padded footsteps, that Matthew snapped his head back.

"Liet, like, pay attention to what I'm saying~ so _anyways_, then I was totally like, suck my dick you big weirdo, and then he was all like-"

Well then. There went _that_ plan.

Matthew looked down at Gilbert who nodded and stepped backwards with Matthew still up in his arms.

They swayed uneasily for a second, and then he moved to what was hopefully the bedroom. Though he really wasn't picky where they ended up. Just as long as they got in somewhere before they were interrupted.

He kicked open the door, and staggered in to what seemed to be the study. As soon as they were in, Gilbert dropped Matthew to his feet and slammed the door shut. He turned back to Matthew, grinning.

"Whatcha lookin' at, Gilbert?" Matthew drew out Gilbert's name, giving a wide smile of his own.

"I'm looking for a flat surface." He replied, and grabbed Matthew's waist. "I think the desk looks pretty fucking awesome."

He guided Matthew backwards, and pushed him onto the large oak desk that was against the far wall of the rather big room. He pressed Matthew's back flat against the dark wood. They paid no attention to the papers that scattered off the desk, nor the desk lamp they knocked over as Matthew hooked his legs around Gilbert and they fell back into their heated make-out session.

Somewhere along the way, Matthew's plaid shirt had ended up on the swiveling chair that had been kicked out of the way, and his glasses had been thrown haphazardly onto the carpeted floor.

It was when Gilbert was in the process of pulling his own t-shirt off and Matthew was using his necklace to pull his head down that the minuscule part of Matthew's brain that was still somehow miraculously sober decided to speak up.

_Tell him now._

Tell him what? That he liked him, and maybe they should go out some time?

No, Matthew was pretty sure that if Gilbert's hands were simultaneously tugging at his zipper and feeling him up underneath his white fitted (which was getting a _very _enthusiastic response from Matthew), it was already established that they liked each other. A _lot._

He tried to think of something to say, a feat that was easier said than done when the man who he had been longing for was about have what would probably be really wild sex with him, given the way he was hungrily attacking Matthew's body on top of a desk while they were both probably really drunk.

Drunk.

Crap.

What if that was the only reason Gilbert had been acting like this? Maybe Matthew had been coming on too strong or something, and then this was just the way a drunken Gilbert had decided to respond. Oh _shit._

Sober Matthew would have probably brushed it off, or thought of something coherent to say. Unfortunately, Sober Matthew had been hit by a dump truck a couple of hours ago and had left Drunk Matthew to fend for himself.

"Yes, _Mattie_." Gilbert hissed against Matthew's neck in appreciation, scooping up Matthew's lower half to meet with his. Matthew responded _very _nicely, and rather vocally, and God, did Gilbert love it. He had been doing an inner victory dance over and over again. "I like this."

Well, at least Sober Matthew had the decency to leave company for Drunk Matthew in the form of Really Horny Matthew.

But then, a question had started to form in Matthew's head, piecing itself together. Matthew decided that it was good enough.

"What are we doing, Gil?"

Gilbert didn't stop running his hands as he responded, straight into Matthew's ear.

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to fuck you so hard, there's going to be a dent in this wall and the desk is going to break."

That was a good enough answer for Matthew, and chewed his lip as Gilbert started to pull his pants off. Halfway through, another question formed in his head, this time quicker, and it spilled out of him before he could even comprehend what it was.

"Why are we doing this?"

Gilbert paused, giving him a blank stare. He wasn't really expecting _that._

"...because I have a huge hard-on?"

Matthew frowned at Gilbert. He wasn't currently sure what answer he was looking for, but he was pretty sure that wasn't it.

"Is that it?"

Gilbert looked down at the space between them.

"Well...you do too."

Matthew looked gave an uncertain look. Gilbert tugged tentatively at the waist band of Matthew's jeans again, which was now down mid-thigh, but Matthew stopped him with a hand.

"Is that _it_, Gilbert? Are you just doing this because you're horny?"

Gilbert cocked an eyebrow, which Matthew took as an affirmative. Something clicked within his brain, and he propped himself up on an elbow, looking at Gilbert.

"Sorry, G-Gil.. I can't do this."

"What do you mean you can't do this? You were doing _this _pretty well up until now."

"I'd rather we..." Matthew struggled with the words for a moment, not quite sure what to say. "I'd rather we do this sober, eh?"

"What the fuck? Why? What's wrong with now?" Gilbert was getting extremely frustrated now. Where the hell had all of this come from?

"B-because..." Matthew gulped. "Ikindalikeyoueh?"

Gilbert blinked.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

And he knew, right at that moment, that he said the wrong thing, because Matthew's face fell. Hard. But seeing as Sober Gilbert was probably chilling with Sober Matthew out somewhere, Drunk Gilbert couldn't really form the right words.

"Oh no, no, Matthew-"

"It's okay, Gilbert." Matthew said quietly, and brushed Gilbert's hands away. He started to pull his pants back up, but Gilbert stopped him, grabbing his wrists.

"Matthew, no." He said firmly. "We shouldn't stop-"

"I don't want to continue, Gilbert." He tried to pry off Gilbert's hands.

"Mattie, _I_ want to continue. I want you, and I want you right now and right here."

"What about later, eh?"

It was Gilbert's turn to frown, his hazed brain slightly confused.

"What do you mean what about later?"

This was definitely the wrong thing to say. Matthew's eyes filled up with disappointment, then slight rage.

"Just get off, Gilbert." He snapped, wrenching his hands from Gilbert's grip. He pushed the other man off him, and stood up, pulling up his pants and zipping them, his legs shaking slightly.

Gilbert stepped back and looked in disbelief. He had been _that _close to getting Matthew.

Damn.

Why did things have to turn out like this all the time?

"Matthew.."

Matthew squinted, looking for his glasses. He scooped them off the ground, and grabbed his button-up, hastily throwing it back on.

"Gilbert, no."

"Matthew, don't-"

"I don't want to even talk about it, Gilbert."

He started to make his way towards the door, but Gilbert grabbed him by his shoulder.

"What the hell, Mattie? You can't just spring all this random shit on me now!"

"Random? _Random, _Gil? I just frickin'...confessed! And you pretty much flipped it off!" Matthew yanked his arm away, and stormed out the room. Gilbert followed, his own anger starting to build. He knew Matthew got slightly emotional when drunk, but this was really fucking stupid.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going!" He called after Matthew, following him down the stairs. "Mattie!"

"I'm leaving, Gil. We'll talk about this in the morning when we're both sober."

"Like hell we will!" Gilbert said as Matthew went down the corridor, stumbling over Arthur and Ludwig. "Come back here!"

"Leave me alone, Gilbert!"

Both Ludwig and Arthur jumped to their feet upon hearing the two bicker loudly.

"Matthew, lad, what happened?"

Matthew stopped in his tracks, and turned around. He gave a long hard glare at Gilbert, and muttered "nothing". Gilbert narrowed his eyes, and next thing Matthew knew, the silver-haired man had grabbed his shoulders and pinned him to the wall.

"Fuck! Get off me, Gil!" Matthew said angrily, pounding his fists on Gilbert's chest, close to giving one punch to the face.

"_Osten_!"

"Prussia!"

Francis, who had heard the commotion and the very familiar voices all the way from the kitchen, ran to see what had happened. He nearly face-palmed at the sight that greeted him, but the fact that he had a freshly opened wine bottle in his hand.

Matthew was against the wall, breathing heavily, while a livid and irritated Arthur and Ludwig held Gilbert by his collar. Or the nape of his neck, because the albino was currently shirtless.

"_Merde, _what is going on?" He asked, but was evidently ignored as Arthur tried to beat some "sense" into him, and Ludwig worked on keeping the two at bay. "Mathieu?"

"Guys, don't fight!" Matthew said, his voice raised as high as it could go, which unfortunately was not very loud, especially over the din of the party that was still continuing. So instead, he decided to jump in and pull Arthur off Gilbert, the former currently aiming a punch at the latter's face.

"Gerroff me Matthew, let me at him-" Arthur protested.

"Oh, I'm shaking now, old man." Gilbert spat back, and Arthur lunged at him again. Matthew held him back again.

"Arthur, please-"

"Tell him, Mattie-"

"Shut up, Gil, stop being an ass-"

"Oh, _I'm _an ass, well sorry for not wanting to deal with stupid fucking-"

"It was important Gil-"

"-And then you had to get all emotional-"

Francis furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

"I did _not_ get emotional, I just fucking asked-"

"Because that's totally the type of stuff you ask someone right when they're trying to fu-"

_Oh. _Francis was close to face-palming again.

"Gilbert!" This time it was Ludwig who cut the conversation off, before it could venture into the realm of down right embarrassing. He hand was still around Gilbert's neck, pulling his brother away from Arthur. "Is this really appropriate?"

"Leave me alone, West, I'm having a fucking conversation here."

Matthew let go of Arthur, who did not go after Gilbert again, but stood there, burning into Gilbert with his eyes.

"Gilbert! You're being such a... sal...un sal..." Matthew's head scrambled for words, any words, no matter what language it was in. But his sudden outburst in emotion and the alcohol in his system and the fact that he had almost had sex with Gilbert in Francis' study were making it really hard for him to think.

"_Un salopard._" Francis supplied from the back, giving a heavy sigh. _Something _always had to go wrong.

"Yeah! That! You're being a big bastard!"

"Excuse you! How dare you call the awesome me a bastard!"

"Because you are one!"

"Well, I'll fucking show you-"

And Gilbert tried reaching for Matthew again, but in one swift movement, Ludwig hooked an arm around, and flung Gilbert over his shoulder.

"West! So not cool! Let me down!" Gilbert kicked out and hit his fists against Ludwig's back, but Ludwig ignored him, already used to such behaviour from his brother.

"My apologies." He said, directing his words to Matthew. "He's just an obnoxious drunk."

"I know." Matthew replied bitterly.

"I think it would be best if I take him back home right now to cool off."

"No fucking way, West!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"Again, I'm very sorry..."

"Can- Matthew."

"Yes, Matthew. I'm very sorry about this whole thing. Arthur. Francis." Ludwig nodded in their general direction. As he left, reprimanding a loudly protesting Gilbert in rapid German, Francis put a sympathetic arm around Matthew.

"Do you want to stay the night, _mon cher_? I think you are too drunk to drive home, and I still have the key to your old room."

Matthew mumbled an affirmative, and Francis let the boy stalk off upstairs.

As Francis dragged Arthur back to the party, telling him that if he hadn't taken Matthew away when he was young Matthew would have had some of the French sensibility, Francis lamented the love problems his child-figure was going through.

But, from what he had heard, Matthew and Gilbert had actually gotten pretty far, and had probably just gotten into a petty argument in between. Which had been made worse by the fact that they were both hammered.

Hey, at least they had gotten somewhere.

_And hopefully they'll remember it in the morning, _Francis thought dryly as they rejoined the party.

* * *

**un salopard = bastard more or less if it's wrong correct me, it's just what I remember /shouldresearch**


	20. After

There were two things that registered in Matthew's mind as he drifted out of sleep. First, the smell of the bed was not the smell of _his _bed. And second, he wasn't alone. There was a warm body curled up against his back.

He kept his eyes closed, as he tried to remember why he wasn't in his home and why there was someone in bed with him. When he got drunk, remembering what happened, while not being too hard, tended to get a bit sketchy.

Well, he had gone to a party at Francis'. That was probably where he was now, and explained the faint smell of roses.

Then he made out with Gilbert. Yeah, he remembered that. And he also remembered them taking it upstairs, and then being pushed onto the desk and then the heated kisses all over his body. Oh. Yes.

That probably explained the warm body beside him. So he rolled over, with a small smile on his face, opened his eyes and-

Gave a small yelp as he was greeted by a shock of blond hair and twinkling blue eyes.

"Ah, Mathieu, I'm so glad you've cheered up again!"

* * *

Gilbert, on the other hand, never had a hard time remembering anything at all in the morning. Everything was always crystal clear to him, even with the world's most killer hangover.

And he was currently beating himself up on the inside because of how...he hated to say it, but how unawesome he acted the night before.

He groaned as he rolled off the couch, where Ludwig had unceremoniously dumped him on when they returned home. He lay on the floor for a few minutes, holding an inner monologue with himself as he breathed in the dust from the floor.

_I can't believe I was so stupid._

_And I cannot believe I'm worrying over that sentimental pansy._

_Except he's batshit insane when he has a hockey stick in his hand, so he's not a pansy._

_But he's sentimental. Which sucks, because now I've ruined our awesome friendship. And he'll be sentimental about it too. _

_Mother fucker, I think _I'll_ be sentimental about it too._

_Not awesome._

_I think I'm going to sneeze._

_There could have been something more. _

_Wow, that sounded cheesy. _

_But whatever. I screwed it up._

_And I didn't manage to get laid either._

_Fuck._

"_Osten_?" Ludwig's voice derailed Gilbert's train of thought as the blond walked into the living room. "You're awake.

"No shit." Gilbert grumbled, his voice muffled against the floor.

"Are you fine?"

"Fucking awesome. Daisies and unicorns and all that awesome stuff, you know."

"...Okay."

There was silence for a bit, until Ludwig spoke up again.

"Do you..ah..how well do you remember last night?"

"Crystal."

"I see."

Gilbert propped himself up on his shoulders, and looked up at Ludwig, who was standing in front of him.

"Hey West, want to help me with something?"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look, West, I know you want to."

"Not really, actually."

But with a still slightly exasperated expression on his face, Ludwig took a seat on the couch as Gilbert rolled onto his back and looked up at his brother.

* * *

Francis was grinning at him lazily, and Matthew slowly felt horror and dread setting in.

"Uh, Pa-papa, I don't want to sound r-rude but we didn't...we didn't...well I'm in bed with you and...we didn't.."

"Ahahaha, no!" Francis chuckled at Matthew's look of apprehension, throwing an arm over Matthew and drawing him uncomfortably close. "Arthur had banished me from the bed room over a silly little argument, and the sofas and other bedrooms were taken, so I decided to sleep with you."

"I-I...see.."

Matthew noted that thankfully, Francis' had decided to don some boxers and a wife beater before crawling into bed, because he was sure he would not be able to, as a full-grown nation, be able to wake up to his father figure cuddling with him in the nude.

"Ahh, Mathieu, just think of it like the old days, when you were a little colony, and would cuddle up with me after a night mare or a bad day~"

"Bad day, eh..."

"_Tu as oublié? _Already?"

They were quiet for a moment, as the rest of the night finally started to make its way back into Matthew's brain. With every event that crawled back, from the awkward questions to the fight that resulted, Matthew's face fell. He buried his face into Francis' chest, moaning with frustration.

"Oh God, what I think happened didn't really happen, right?"

Francis sighed, and Matthew took that as an affirmative.

"I can't believe it!" He said unhappily. "I was such a...I was so stupid last night!"

Francis brought his hand up Matthew's back and patted it reassuringly.

"Oh Mathieu, you were not being stupid, you were just a little intoxicated.."

Matthew was quiet for a moment. Then he sniffled. Then, with no regard for anything, he wailed.

"But I ruined it! It was going so good and I ruined it!"

"Ah..."

"And now Gilbert probably won't talk to me ever again!"

"Mathieu..."

"I just had to ask those stupid questions!" Matthew was almost wailing at this point.

"It wasn't completely your fault..."

"We were finally getting somewhere, and I just had to ruin it with my...ugh!"

Matthew buried his face into Francis' wife beater again, and Francis' could feel the dampness. If there was one thing that always puzzled Francis, it was Matthew's ability to be more emotional with a hangover than while drunk.

He planted a comforting kiss on the top of Matthew's head. When Matthew brought his head back, he pecked both of his damp cheeks as well.

"That always seemed to comfort you when you were young." He gave Matthew a genuine smile. "Now tell me, what did you ask him?"

"W-well..." Matthew shifted through the memories, trying to remember what exactly he had said. "I asked him...why we were doing whatever we were doing.."

"..And?"

"Then...I more or less asked him if this was a one night thing...I asked him what about later.."

"And what did he say?"

Matthew bit his lip, looking even more upset.

"I b-believe his exact words were...'What about later?'..and then I told him that I couldn't do what we were doing..and then we both got angry..." Matthew groaned again at the recollection.

"It was not completely your fault, _mon cher-_"

"Why the hell did I have to go all weird and emotional-"

"Mathieu, listen-"

"I shouldn't have drunk so much-"

"_Cher-_"

"Or sat beside Lars while he got high-"

"Mathieu." This time, Francis' voice was louder and firm and he felt Matthew tense up.

"It wasn't completely your fault. You were curious and," He continued, in a slightly more gentle voice. "Gilbert is not as...good with words. I'm sure he didn't mean what he said in _that_way.."

"He's blunt and truthful when he needs to be." Matthew sniffed. "And those questions were just stupid. I even told him I liked him, and he brushed it off."

"..."

"...and I was kinda hoping he wouldn't just take me for a drunk lay."

"Mathieu, would he really do that?" Francis sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair off Matthew's face.

Matthew shifted uncomfortably in Francis' arms.

"Um...yes..."

"With _you_?"

Matthew gave a slightly unsure look. "I suppose."

"Then you are seriously underestimating our friend."

"Eh?" Matthew raised his eyebrows.

"He wouldn't just randomly hook up with you. Or for a matter of fact," Francis let out a low chuckle. "Let anyone else."

Matthew didn't really know what to say to that, so Francis continued.

"I don't think your questions were that stupid. They had just slightly bad timing. And," he tapped Matthew's cheek. "I think if you asked him the same questions, and told him the same thing now, he'd give you very different answers."

Matthew's eyes widened slightly.

"R-really? What would he say?"

"That, I can't tell you." Francis replied cheerfully. "He'll have to tell you himself. I think you should talk with him."

"I don't think I can really do that." Matthew mumbled. "Not yet anyways."

"Of course you can." Francis pinched Matthew's cheek. "If you can do it when you're drunk, you can _definitely _do it when you're sober."

* * *

"...and then he was all like, "I kinda like you eh!" and I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to say and it was just so fucking _bad _because that's when we ended up actually really fighting." Gilbert finished off, as Ludwig was forced to listen. Gilbert was still sprawled out across the floor, and Ludwig had sat on the couch, listening to Gilbert's version of what happened last night.

"So what did you say back?"

"Something totally unawesome."

"Which was..?"

"I told him I didn't see what that had to do with anything."

Ludwig stared at Gilbert.

"What?"

"You actually said that?"

"Yeah, but what he said was so random!"

Ludwig raised his palm to his head. He was glad that Canada was not a particularly vicious, war-mongering nation, otherwise he was sure his brother's stupidity would have cost them both.

"Don't give me that look West, I already feel stupid."

"You _are _stupid, Gilbert." Ludwig gave an exasperated sigh. "And what he said was _not _random. Infact, given the...circumstances, it was perfectly normal. And I'm not surprised England got so agitated. You really did pick the wrong nation's ex-colony to go after, didn't you?"

"Stop rubbing it in." Gilbert muttered. Then after a moment of thought, he asked, "So what do you think I should do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, having your best friend possibly not talk to you ever again is way too unawesome for me. "

"I was under the impression that no one wants to talk to you in the first place."

"Just because I cockblocked you doesn't mean you have to get all snarky on me." Gilbert glared back at Ludwig, who returned the sentiment. "Plus, I actually like the kid, and I'm too awesome to be ashamed of it, believe it or not."

"I'll try and believe it. And I think that this is something you should fix on your own." Ludwig looked at Gilbert pointedly, hoping his brother would get the idea that he did not want to be involved in his shenanigans.

"Come _on,_" Gilbert said, totally not whining. "You should be honoured I'm asking advice from you. Haven't you read like a fucktillion books on this shit anyways?"

"You have too, haven't you?" Ludwig retorted.

"That's not the _point._ Apologizing is something I don't need to do too often, so I'm not too good at it. So I need your help, because you seem to be much better at it than me."

Ludwig regarded Gilbert for a moment. With a look of utmost pity, he finally nodded his head and sighed.

"Fine. Let me get my books."

"Fuckin' awesome!"

* * *

tu as oublié= you forgot


	21. Take Five

Gilbert started to feel his eyes glaze over as the girl continued to explain the various flowers. His mind began to wander, as he started to wonder why he was here in the first place.

_"Flowers?" Gilbert asked incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?"_

_"Well it says here that they are one of the best ways to apologize." Ludwig replied, leafing through the pages. "And since you have a rather fair bit to apologize for, I think they would be a good idea."_

_"Matthew's not a girl." Gilbert grumbled in response. "Isn't there something cooler that I could get?"_

_"Chocolates or candy?"_

_"I said Matthew, not his fatass of his brother."_

_Ludwig sighed, yet again controlling the urge to beat his brother over the head with the hardcover book. After all, that would be improper._

_"I still think flowers would be the best. They are not as 'pansy' as you think they are," Ludwig added a bit carefully. "They're good for conveying_ other_ emotions too."_

_The emphasis on other was deliberate, because Ludwig knew that if he told Gilbert directly, the other would just get all flustered, say something about a lack of awesomeness, and then scrap the whole idea of a tactful apology._

_"But I have no idea what the fuck they mean. Like, what if I get him something that means 'Go to hell' instead of... what if I get him something that means 'Go to hell'?"_

_"I'm sure if you asked for assistance at the shop, they'd be more than glad to help you." Though Ludwig doubted it, since Gilbert would probably end up intimidating anyone he asked for help._

_"Don't need no fucking help." Gilbert grumbled, and his brother shook his head._

And somehow, after that, Gilbert had found himself going to the nearest flower shop. Flowers _did _seem like something Matthew would appreciate, and since he was trying to get on the guy's good side, he had figured he might as well get some. He had tried looking up different flower meanings, but there just seemed to be a billion of them for each flower. It made his head hurt, and he decided to go ask someone in person instead.

_"Oh, West, by the way." Gilbert called out casually as he threw on his coat, getting ready to head out side._

_"Yes?"_

_"Mention this to anyone, and I will kill you."_

_"..."_

He had thrown on a black baseball cap and pulled up the hood of his black sweatshirt he was wearing under his jacket, lest anyone recognize his silver hair or pale face as he hurried his way to the florists'. He did not want anyone to know he was doing something so...sentimental. Not until he had fixed things with Matthew. After he had hopefully accomplished that, he would tell everyone happily about the awesome way he had won Matthew back.

So he marched right in through the door, asking the girl at cash for help with picking flowers. Or, more specifically, demanded that she help his awesome self. The surprised and slightly taken aback girl asked him what or who he wanted to get them for. After a moment of self-contemplation (five minutes of staring at the girl while lost in thought), he had finally told her that it for someone that he rather liked, and wanted to apologize to. It wouldn't hurt if he told a normal human, since they probably wouldn't know who he was or who he was talking about anyways. And he knew they wouldn't laugh at him and look on knowingly if he specifically asked for things that were either violet or purple.

She had started taking him through the store, pointing out the different flowers, explaining the meaning behind each type. Gilbert managed to keep his attention for the first ten minutes or so, but soon felt it slip.

"See here, purple hyacinths are supposed to say something along the lines of "I'm sorry" or "Forgive me", which might help you out."

"What about these?" Gilbert asked, pointing absent-mindedly to a bunch of white flowers.

"Oh those? Those are white zinnias. They mean goodness, but if I'm correct they also mean...um, I think they mean 'Let's take a chance.' I suppose if you paired them with these flowers over here..."

As the girl continued talking, Gilbert felt his brain slowly melt. When the hell did such simple plants get such complex meanings? And he'd also have to somehow pick flowers that went well together, instead of a bouquet that looked like it was drawn by a three year old. Maybe he should get Matthew a marijuana plant instead. He had a slight feeling that the blond would appreciate it more. Or not, because Gilbert remembered that every time Lars gave Matthew tulips, the younger one would fawn over them for hours. Maybe Gilbert should have gone to Lars, but it was too late now because someone that he _really _did not want seeing him, had just walked in to the flower shop.

Cursing his horrible luck, Gilbert tried to focus on the girl, hoping that if he ignored Francis, he wouldn't notice him. Unfortunately, Francis had a keen eye for beauty, and deciding that girl helping Gilbert was worth his attention, he sauntered over to where the two were standing. Having the ability to reach objects of interests at unnatural speeds, Francis reached them before Gilbert could make his escape.

_Why couldn't it have been Antonio? _Gilbert thought miserably, as Francis' eyes went wide with recognition.

"Gilbert! _Mon cher, _what are you doing here?" Not allowing Gilbert to answer, Francis continued to titter. "Oh, I know! You're here for flowers for Mathieu right?"

"Francis," Gilbert threatened. "You say one thing about _l'amour_, and I will shove that rose you just pulled out, up your ass."

Gilbert glared at the French man, hoping that he would get the idea. Having received that glare and Gilbert's threats too many times, therefore immune to it, Francis just grinned widely, and continued to twirl the red flower between his fingers.

"But I cannot ignore when a friend is so helplessly in love! And even acknowledges it!" he continued, his voice jubilant.

"Fuck off." Gilbert grumbled, turning away from Francis.

"So what has our dear friend been asking for this time time?" Francis asked, this time questioning the girl. Gilbert shot her a don't-dare-tell look but she was too preoccupied with Francis' flirty eyes.

"U-um well...your friend was asking for flowers to show someone that he was sorry and that he liked them..."

Was she batting her eyelashes? Did Francis just give her that rose?

"Oh Gilbert, you could have just come to me! You know I keep a wonderful garden, and I know exactly what Mathieu likes-"

"Shut up, old man. " Gilbert scowled, his cheeks slightly tinting. He had thought about going to Francis, but the man chattering away like some old maid was something he had been hoping to escape.

Deciding that now would finally be a good time to leave, he cleared his throat, while Francis was talking about the types of flowers Gilbert should give Matthew and the types of activities that it would lead girl looked slightly thankful as she had been turning slightly red at Francis' rather in-depth descriptions.

He turned on his heel and walked (not stomped) out of the store, away from that perverted French man, because he had way too much pride to accept his help.

Flowers were definitely off the list, so what now?

Chocolates or candy?

He didn't really feel like getting any of those things, because they seemed rather superficial to him. Plus, he and Matthew used to pig out on that stuff all the time, so he was sure the meaning behind the sweets would not be as special.

_ How about a gift? Like a dog collar for that bear so he actually remembers his name._

Gilbert was definitely not used to getting things for others. Usually it was the other way around, with people lavishing things upon his awesomeness. But, he decided Matthew deserved it, and stalked off, thinking about what he could possibly do or get to show that he was sorry.

A light bulb went off in his head, and he knew what to do. He'd get the advice of the person who had to apologize the most often in their relationship.

* * *

Aside from Gilbert and occasionally Francis, there was only one other person who could get through Matthew's locks and into his house without being subjected to a (very polite questioning and then) beating with a hockey stick.

As Matthew, who had reached home earlier that afternoon, was getting rid of his daily stubble after his shower, Alfred abused that right, bursting into the washroom.

"Mattie! I heard what happened!" He loudly exclaimed, waving his hands. Matthew yelped, then swore colourfully under his breath as he nicked his cheek rather badly with the razor. "Woah, shit bro, you _shave?_"

"Jesus- Alfred! Could it have hurt to knock?" Matthew said, frowning as he saw the blood. He swore again, and rinsed his face. Alfred smacked his back, making him inhale some of the water he was splashing on his face and causing him to choke. "And yes I do. I'm not a little boy, Alfred."

"But you're so girly! And I heard what happened!" He repeated, as Matthew pushed his hand away. "I heard things got fucked up epically! I heard you two were drunk and you were emotional and Gilbert was a douche bag and you ended up crying!"

"It wasn't _that _bad! And," Matthew added for good measure, as he reached for his box of band-aids. "I did _not_ cry. And fuck off, I'm not girly either."

That statement was not helped out by the fact that there was only a few band-aides left over, band-aids he had gotten as a 'Valentines' day gift from his brother a long time ago.

"That's not what Francis told me!" Alfred replied, and Matthew sighed as he applied the neon pink band-aid to his cheek. It had little white hearts over it, with a bright red "FIX ME" stamped over it.

"Can we move this out of the washroom?" Matthew asked, pushing past Alfred without waiting for an answer and heading towards his bedroom for something to throw on.

"Can you make me pancakes? And we need to fix this." Alfred followed Matthew into the bedroom, ignoring Matthew's hints to get lost.

"No. And what do you mean _we?_ This is my own problem." Matthew started rummaging through his laundry basket, looking for clothes that didn't smell. He picked up a green hoodie and threw it at Alfred's face. "Does this smell?"

"Like shit." Alfred answered, tossing the clothing away. "And I know it's your problem; that's why it's _my _problem too! I can't stand here all un-heroic while I watch my brother flounder."

"I'm sure you can't." Matthew muttered under his breath, picking up a red sweater. "What about this?"

"Not as bad as the other one. We need to go straight back to Gilbert and you need to talk to him when you two aren't plastered!"

"Of course, Mom." Matthew rolled his eyes. Yes, he wanted to go talk to Gilbert and sort things out, but no, he did not want to do so in the presence of his brother. In addition to making him more nervous, Alfred would probably annoy him by adding his own commentary and/or useful suggestions.

"Maybe you can make him pancakes again!" Alfred suggested. "You're like, the ultimate pancake whore, so it shouldn't be that hard right?"

"Alfred." Matthew said warningly. "I told you. I'm doing this on my own, because if anyone, especially _you_, interferes, it's probably just going to get worse."

"So touchy." Alfred sighed dramatically, rubbing his forehead for effect. "But it's okay, I'll help you from the sidelines then. Whisper words of advice as you stumble awkwardly."

"Screw off."

"And then I'll secretly film you two as you finally confess and kiss, and then-"

"Alfred."

"-And then you can _finally _get laaaiiid!"

* * *

Gilbert swallowed before knocking on the door. Being uncourageous would only make what he was going to do just less that awesome. He knocked sharply three times, and waited for ten seconds before hearing a muffled "I'm coming!"

Antonio swung open the door, giving a bright smile as he saw his friend.

"Gilbert! What brings you here?" He asked, ever so cheerful.

Gilbert knew that being in a relationship with Lovino meant that Antonio did a lot of apologizing, even though he didn't really need to. Also, Spain being the country of passion and Antonio being rather good at keeping secrets (sometimes), Gilbert felt that he could trust the other man.

"Well..." Gilbert scratched the back of his head. "Can I come in?"

Antonio nodded, and let Gilbert into his home. They went into the living room, and Gilbert noted that thankfully, Lovino wasn't there. It was already hard talking to Antonio, having the temperamental nation there making snide remarks about whatever he said.

They sat for a few minutes, Antonio bringing out churros as they chatted about idle things. Gilbert tried his best to hide his slight nervousness as they talked but Antonio had noticed.

It was when they had gone onto the topic of gardens, that Antonio casually said, "So around ten minutes before you came, Francis gave me a call."

Gilbert stopped eating to look at Antonio.

"What'd he say?"

"He said that you were trying to apologize. And buy flowers. Something about being lost with love or something?"

Gilbert pressed his lips into a thin line. Of_ course_ Francis would say that.

"Is that why you came? For help?"

"Maybe." Gilbert mumbled. He couldn't help himself as he suddenly decided to rethink his decision about coming to the Spaniard for help. Antonio didn't say anything, and Gilbert took that as a cue to elaborate on his situation.

"Did Francis tell you what happened with me and Matthew last night?" he asked cautiously, since he didn't want to give out more information than what was needed by accident.

"Yup! Francis told me you screwed up!"

Gilbert had to marvel at how his friend said this as if he were just discussing the weather. Then again, Antonio always talked like that, even in the good old days when they terrorized everyone.

"Well I need to...er..." Gilbert took a deep breath in and spoke in one go. "I need to apologized to Matthew for being a dickhead even though I was kinda drunk and I have no idea how to to do that because apologies are just not some thing the awesome me does but this time I need to so can you help me Antonio?"

Antonio blinked, waiting a moment for his brain to catch everything he said.

"Aww, you really do want to apologize? It's so honest it's cute~"

"Shut up." Gilbert said, for which felt like the millionth time that day. "I just need to know what to do in order to show the kid I'm sorry."

"And that you like him?"

Gilbert bit his lip. He was still in the _very_ early stages of admitting that out loud, especially to other people.

"That...can come later. I just want to...um...apologize. And since you are really used to apologizing to Captain Pissyface, I thought you'd be able to um...help me...yeah, help the awesome me."

"But from what I know, Lovino and...Matthew are very different people, right?"

"Are you going to fuckin' help me or not?" Gilbert snapped.

Antonio gave Gilbert an amused look, and Gilbert narrowed his eyes as if daring the other man to laugh.

"Of course I will! Seeing you in love is just so cute~"

* * *

Alfred continued bothering Matthew till the other finally caved in and trudged down to the kitchen to make pancakes so that he could shut up.

"After this, you better be leaving, eh?" Matthew grumbled, flipping over what seemed like the fiftieth pancake. "I have other things to do."

"And you will do them." Alfred chirped happily, stuffing the food into his mouth, then pouring in syrup straight from the bottle. "Anferf yof makh moah"

"..."

Alfred swallowed then repeated. "After you make more. Food for me, that is. I need the energy to think of an awesome way for you and Gilbert to get back together."

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek, so that he would not fling pancake batter at his brother, a feat that was proving to be very hard.

"You don't need energy for anything, Alfred, because you're not getting involved. I already slightly messed things up and I don't need your _help _or anything."

"Cut me deep, bro."

"Suck it. _Bro_."

A light knocking from the front door could be heard.

"Kumafunu!" Matthew called out, too distracted by carving choice words into the pancakes he was about to give Alfred. "Get the door!"

There was the sound of light padding footsteps, as the bear went to answer the door. There was a faint "Who?" and the sound of the door creaking open. Slight rustling, a few whispered words, and then the door closed again. Alfred was in the middle of describing another dramatic way that Matthew could confess his undying love (taken straight from a movie), when Kumajirou waddled into the kitchen.

"You." He tugged on Matthew's pant-leg, getting the attention of the man.

"Hm?" Matthew looked down, and saw the bear holding out a single stem of purple hyacinth. He took the flower out of the bear's outstretched paw, and his eyes widened slightly as he saw the piece of paper that had been impaled on the stem. He read the hastily scribbled writing.

_In the porch. Come outside._

Oh no. He was at the door? _He _was at the door? Matthew felt a faint blush crawl across his face. Alfred materialized beside him, poking his nose in.

"Wazzat?"

"N-Nothing." Matthew replied, but Alfred let out a low whistle.

"Dude, your boyfriend's _here_!"

"Alfred!" Matthew tried to swat Alfred away, but his brother ignored it. Instead, he grabbed Matthew by the collar and dragged him towards the door. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet!"

Alfred swung open the door with great gusto, nearly slamming into Gilbert's face.

"You must win him back to proceed any further!" He exclaimed, in a rather grand manner. Gilbert gave an extremely confused and slightly disturbed look, and Matthew shoved his brother out of the way.

"Uh, s-sorry about that, G-Gil...Gilbert." He cursed himself inwardly for stammering as his eyes locked with red ones.

The two stood there, staring at each other for a few moments without saying anything. Matthew lowered his gaze to the ground, wishing that the uneasiness, along with Alfred, would just go away.

"So...Matthew..." Gilbert began, slightly awkwardly and Matthew glanced at Gilbert.

"Y-Yeah?" Oh, how Matthew wished he could stop stuttering.

"I think we should...you...doyouwannatalkorsomething." Gilbert rushed, then looked away. Matthew bit his lip nervously, and heard Alfred give a loud sigh from behind him.

"Sure...wanna come in-inside or something?"

"Uh well, I'd rather we go for a walk or something." Gilbert said, then lowering his voice slightly so that Alfred couldn't hear. "Away from the giant megaphone, y'know."

"I heard that!"

"Okay...um, let me just get my jacket."

Matthew stepped back inside, and closed the door. He brought his hands up to his face, and moaned.

"He's right _there_!"

"I know! Go join him!" Alfred prodded. "Now or never, baby!"

"Shut up. What am I going to say to him?" Matthew dragged his cheeks down with his fingers. "I don't want it to be like last time."

"Oh, it won't be." Alfred said reassuringly, pulling Matthew's jacket out from the front closet. "You're sober."

"That's what I'm worried about. Pass me my tuque, it's cold"

Alfred tossed the white knitted cap with the red maple leaf on it to Matthew, who pulled it on hesitantly. Matthew had a look of great self-pity upon his face, as he again started to run through all the things he could say and all the worst-case scenarios in his head.

"And you worry too much, so shut up." Alfred opened the door, and shoved Matthew out rather forcefully. "Now go get 'em, tiger!"


	22. The Bad, The Good

Matthew winced slightly at the door behind him slammed rather loudly and cursed Alfred. Maybe if he had put his foot down and kicked Alfred out earlier, then he wouldn't be standing with Gilbert in his porch wishing that he would just melt into the ground. And he wished that Gilbert would just _say _something instead of standing there, and that he could say something as well.

They stood in that awkward silence, face-to-face, for a few seconds, until Gilbert decided to speak up.

"Nice band-aid."

"Oh." Matthew raised his fingers up to the pink band-aid. "Thanks. Got it while shaving."

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow. "You _shave?_"

"Hey!" Matthew narrowed his eyes, and gave Gilbert a slightly hard punch on the shoulder as the older man started to chuckle. "Screw you."

But he found himself starting to laugh as well, and gave Gilbert another light punch as Gilbert tried to swat his hand away. The laughter was louder than necessary and slightly nervous, but nonetheless, started to break away at the ice.

"So...um...wanna walk?"

"Y-Yeah. Park?" Matthew suggested, slightly nervous, but Gilbert shook his head.

"Too many people. And I'm pretty sure your brother would follow us there..."

He nodded towards the window of the living room, where Alfred was making no attempts to hide that he was watching. He flashed Matthew a huge grin and a thumbs up, and Matthew wondered if he could somehow use a telepathic sibling connection to strangle his brother.

Matthew rolled his eyes in exasperation nodded in agreement. "Just...randomly walk then, I guess?"

Gilbert shrugged, and Matthew took that as a yes. They stepped down the porch, both of them avoiding eye contact with each other. Gilbert craned his head backwards, and saw that Alfred was mouthing something, along with hand gestures.

"You hurt...Matthew...I hurt...I kill?...Oh, I nuke...you..." Gilbert muttered, trying to figure out what the hell Alfred was saying. "Fuck that, I'm not even a nation anymore."

"Sorry, Gil?" Matthew asked, as they hit the side walk.

"Oh, nothing." Gilbert replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Nothing at all."

They walked in relative silence, each not wanting to start the conversation. Neither of them wanted to end up saying the wrong thing, since things were already not too great. The anxiety had started to eat away at them, when Gilbert finally to cut to the chase and get things going.

"So I came to talk about...eh...last night..." Gilbert said casually, kicking a pebble which hit the black cat strolling across the pavement. It hissed at him, even though it was totally an accident. Because he wasn't superstitious. Not at all.

"Oh..." Matthew scratched the side of his neck. "I wanted to kinda talk about that too."

"Uhm... You want to go first?"

Matthew bit his lip. No, he definitely did _not_ want to go first, but he figured he might as well take the initiative for a change.

"Okay...Well...I'm sorry..." Matthew swallowed, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. "For being too...ahh..."

He waved his hand vaguely in the air, before jamming it into his jean pocket, hoping Gilbert got the message. Fortunately, he did.

"Wasn't really your fault..." Gilbert said quietly. "I was really drunk...and being a total dickhead."

"I was drunk too.."

"Yeah, but I was totally shit faced. But hey, at least we weren't high. Directly."

Matthew hummed in response, and they walked in more silence.

"Oh, fuck me." Gilbert finally said, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "I'm sorry for being a total douche and doing all that stuff to you then being a total ass."

Matthew paused for a second.

"It's okay, Gilbert. It's-"

"No, it's not okay. Because best friends don't do that each other."

Gilbert emphasized the best friends part, and Matthew cringed slightly on the inside. If Gilbert considered them to be nothing more than best friends, that could be a slight problem...

...Then again, what Francis had said...and he usually was right about these kinds of things...

"Did you hear me?" Gilbert's voice floated over, and Matthew was brought back to the present.

"Oh, no, sorry Gil, what did you say?"

"That I'm sorry for taking advantage of you. And I know what we did was sort of intense."

Matthew gave a slight nervous chuckle. "I know, eh?"

"Yeah. And I was saying how that stuff usually destroys a friendship. But ours is too awesome to be destroyed by something stupid like that."

There was that inner cringe again. Matthew was actually kind of hoping to build off that mutual interest they had shown in each other that night, but that would probably not be the case now.

"Yeah...you're right, Gil..." He was internally kicking himself, because he felt like he should have been saying something more. He could feel his courage levels slightly draining with every word Gilbert was saying.

"And so if you wanna, uh, be friends again, I'd appreciate it..."

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it too." Matthew replied, giving a slight smile. "Though I don't think we stopped being friends in the first place."

It wasn't _quite _what he wanted but still...

Even though they were just on a friendly basis, it was good enough for him...for now. They had just barely gotten rid of the awkwardness, even though that night would probably linger like an elephant in the room. Especially because of Matthew having told Gilbert that he liked him. But they could work it out, and eventually he could sort of rebuild his courage, and then, without the help of his family unit this time around, he would attempt some thing again. Maybe not at a party, and maybe in a hundred years or so when that elephant in the room had been shot and killed and made into a long-forgotten handbag. Or something.

"Hey Matthew." The voice snapped him back out of his thoughts. Gilbert had stopped walking in the middle of the side walk.

Matthew backtracked his steps and halted beside him. Gilbert turned towards him, and the look on his face did not sit well with Matthew.

"Yeah, Gil?"

Gilbert looked at him, as if mulling over something very important in his mind. He did not speak for a whole thirty seconds and Matthew, growing uncomfortable, was about to say something, when he decided to talk.

"To be honest, after this, I don't think we can be friends..."

Well, shit. Matthew gulped at the words. _That_ was definitely what he didn't want to hear.

"Okay..." He responded quietly, looking down at the ground.

"What do you mean okay?" Gilbert's eyes had narrowed, as the response had not sat well with him.

Matthew blinked, slightly confused.

"Er...I meant okay to what you said?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

Gilbert sighed. Matthew had given in way too easily, which was definitely not good.

"I mean, why would you say okay so casually? Aren't you supposed to tear up and hang on to me and ask me to please, no, don't leave me?"

"...Do you want me to do that?" Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Well not _now. _It would kill the moment."

Matthew blinked.

"...The moment." He repeated.

"Yes."

"And that would be..."

Gilbert pressed his lips together, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He was awesome. He could do this.

"Where I tilt your head upwards, tell you I want to be _more _than friends, and then kiss you."

There was dead silence for a second. Even the rustling of the wind or car driving by had been blocked out by the both of them. Both had a slight blush crawling across their faces.

"I'm not _that_ short, eh?" Matthew blurted out. His brain had slightly frozen up and just tried spitting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Whatever. Then I don't tilt your head. But I still kiss you."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Well, do you want to...do that now?" Matthew asked timidly. For some reason, even after what they had done before, a simple kiss seemed extremely nerve-wracking.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I was getting at."

"O-Okay."

They continued to stare at each other for a few moments before Gilbert made a move towards Matthew. He got a hold of Matthew's hands and pulled him a bit closer. Matthew in turn lifted his head up slightly, leaning in as well. By the time their noses touched, both of their eyes were closed. They hovered there, neither of them really knowing whether they should be the one taking the initiative.

"On a count of three?" Matthew asked meekly. Gilbert just chuckled nervously, then closed the distance between then.

They stood there, with their lips pressed together, completely rigid. Gilbert squeezed Matthew's hands, and that was the most either of them moved. Instead of the kiss relaxing the two, they were as still and awkward as ever. Both their faces had turned red, Gilbert's more so than Matthew's due to his lack of pigmentation.

"This was not as dramatic as I hoped." Gilbert said, breaking it off as it became unbearably awkward, with a frown formed on his face. The frown slightly crushed Matthew's inner hope levels that had risen during the kiss.

"You don't say." Matthew murmured, trying to put on a reassuring smile. Gilbert's hands had eased their grip but they were still around Matthew's, and he still had that frown on his face.

"I think it needs to be preceded by a confession or something."

"I thought you'd be too awesome for those kinds of things." Matthew said, raising his eyebrows.

Gilbert almost said that he was _too _awesome for these kinds of things, and now that they kissed they should just go home and let Gilbert seize Matthew's vital regions. He knew if he did that, he would get bitch-slapped, which would effectively ruin the moment. So he decided, instead, to take the honest route.

"Nah, around you it's okay. I'm comfortable around you." He gave Matthew's hand a tiny squeeze and smiled one of his genuine smiles. He decided to deem the action awesome, because of grin and blush he got in return.

"Want to hear more?"

"Okay."

Gilbert took a deep breath in, as if preparing for a long winded speech.

"I like the food you cook me, and how you'll cook it for me even if it's four in the morning and I'm wasted."

"Always a pleasure."

"I like that you let me crash at your house whenever. And you let me share your bed with you even though I crush you and your brother keeps telling you I'm a rapist."

"And..." Gilbert searched his brain for that mental list that he prepared. Must have left it back on Matthew's porch. "You don't get all up in my ass for being an ex-nation and still hanging around or annoying you."

"Oh Gil, you don't annoy me."

"I know, but I need more substantial things to tell you. It sounds more impressive that way."

Matthew rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Continue."

"You...make totally bitchin' syrup. And speaking of bitches, you're totally mine."

"Gil-"

"Because even my brother wouldn't do all the shit you've done for me, which is totally cool by the way. But I think I own you." Gilbert continued to grind out the words, hoping that Matthew would see the true meaning behind them.

"Gilbert-"

"Or maybe not." Gilbert cut him off again, looking thoughtful. "Maybe you own me because I haven't had to do this for anyone, ever. Which is weird, because I think you've made me into some pansy."

"Gil-"

"And if you were my bitch, you'd totally be at my beck and call, if you know what I mean. Well you kinda were, at the party. But you aren't, which totally sucks-"

"Dude-"

"-because your pasty white skin and womanly hair turn me on. So do your hockey muscles and those weird eyes of yours. Hell, even your little curl turns me on, now that I know what to do with it."

"You're really good at this, aren't you?" Matthew said sarcastically, earning him a glare from Gilbert.

"Well I don't really do this every day." Gilbert huffed, putting his hands on his hips and ignoring the voice in his head that said he looked like an angry housewife. "I don't think I've ever really had to do this, actually."

"I can tell it's killing you on the inside." Matthew teased, this time getting a light smack on his forehead.

"You better be grateful, punk. I don't do this for just anybody. Especially someone who has been the reason I haven't gotten laid lately because I was too busy spending time with them. and actually really enjoying it." A pause, and then "God, I did _not _just say that."

"I'm pretty sure you just did." Matthew said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"Fine. Now wipe that smile off your face and tell me that you never knew I felt that way and that you love me too." Gilbert commanded, eliciting a short giggle from Matthew. "Hey!"

"You didn't tell me you love me in the first place." Matthew pointed out, getting a scowl in return from Gilbert.

"It was implied, stupid." Gilbert shook his head, as it should have been obvious all along. "Now, talk."

"It seems rather formulaic." Matthew said, but knew that this was pretty much gold, coming from Gilbert. In his own, slightly weird way, Gilbert had confessed, more or less, and that was good enough for Matthew. Even if it wasn't quite the romantic, heart-felt confession. Then again, it was Gilbert, so it was probably as romantic as it would get. For now.

"But it's_ supposed_ to work according to the bo-"

Gilbert immediately clamped his mouth shut before he could finish the sentence and Matthew raised an eyebrow. The way Gilbert was acting rather familiar. It sort of reminded him of something that Alfred had told him a long time ago...

"Have you been reading your brother's advice books?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, and decided not to reply. Which was, honestly, an answer unto itself. Matthew pressed his lips into a tight line, trying to not break out into giggles. Gilbert looked at Matthew's forced grimace, and pouted.

"Fuck you. Wh- Don't laugh!"

Matthew had burst out laughing, which increased as Gilbert's pout grew.

"I'm going to slap you if you don't shut up." Gilbert snapped, and Matthew completely ignored him.

"D-Doesn't that fall under th-things you shouldn't do according to your b-book?" Matthew managed to gasp in between. He rested his forehead onto Gilbert's shoulder as he continued to shake with laughter.

"I hate you." Gilbert grumbled. "It's not my fault all this relationship stuff is weirdly complicated."

"Love you too." Matthew countered, snaking his arms around Gilbert's waist. "Even if you used a book."

"Asshole." Gilbert said, the insult half-hearted because he knew that Matthew (and hopefully Ludwig) would never, ever tell anyone that his awesomeness had to stoop low enough to use the advice of others. He pinched Matthew's chin between two fingers (because cupping his cheeks would probably earn another fit of laughter from the other) and tilted it slightly upwards. Matthew's eyes were bright, and his grin was still large. Gilbert was pretty sure he had his own idiotic grin on to match, as he rested his free hand on Matthew's lower back.

"Don't grope me in public, Gil, it's indecent."

"Whatever."

This time when they kissed, it wasn't as awkward. Granted, they were still in the middle of the sidewalk, but lack of experience with public affection didn't hinder them from dragging out and deepening the kiss as much as they could. Even with the disapproving stares from the occasional passerby or two.

Except for that one blond with that funny bowler hat and familiar jacket...

"So," said Alfred, who had coincidentally been taking a casual stroll down the same street as the two and had migrated towards them to of course, only say hello and not to take more black-mail pictures with his phone of them eating face. "Does this mean y'all are boyfriends yet?"

* * *

**If you stuck through all of that...I _love_ ****you and I'll have your children. Or you can have mine. I'm good either way ;)**

**Thanks to everyone who faved/reviewed/alerted, you made my life and are all awesome and I read every single one of them and I super appreciated them and again, I love you -sparkles-**


	23. Somewhat of an Epilogue

**1**

* * *

"Gilbert, for the last time, I told you-"

Matthew was currently pushed up against the large headboard of the bed, sandwiched between the wood and his boyfriend as Gilbert kneeled over him.

"Blah blah blah, you don't want to soil the innocence of the room you used to stay in when you were a kid. And I told _you_ that I could give less of a fuck."

"Gilbert!" Matthew hissed, as he pushed Gilbert's face away for the hundredth time."If Arthur put in us in separate rooms, he's probably not going to happy if he hears us or walks in! I don't think anyone in this house would be!"

Undeterred, Gilbert settled for Matthew's neck instead.

Originally, it was just Matthew and Alfred that were supposed to be visiting Arthur, but Francis decided to tag along. And because Matthew was there, Alfred and Francis had insisted that he bring Gilbert over so that Arthur could give them his blessings. Matthew thought it was a horrible idea, but Gilbert, who Francis and Alfred made sure was in the room while they asked, thought it was an awesome idea.

Matthew, knowing that he wouldn't win against the three blockheads, gave up and let Gilbert come. Arthur, predictably, had been none too happy about having a "bloody madman" running about his house. That was why he and Gilbert had been put in separate rooms at each end of the house. Gilbert, not to keen on boundaries, had sneaked into Matthew's room as soon as most of the house had retired. And that was where Matthew's problems had began.

"Ah-Gil! Don't do that!" Matthew protested. Gilbert replied by biting down a bit harder on Matthew's neck, and Matthew held back a tiny gasp.

"But Mattie," Gilbert whined near Matthew's ear. "I _love_ you."

"Good for you." Matthew replied, trying to push Gilbert away and failing. "Now get off."

"Nope. You look fucking delicious." Gilbert said, smirking against the skin as his hand skittered underneath Matthew's night shirt. "I'm not leaving until I get a taste."

"Gilbert!" Matthew really wished that Gilbert would just get off and go away and he could get some sleep. "Don't... I don't want people to hear us."

"Then be quiet. You're the one that's loud anyways."

"I said no!" Matthew blushed a furious red at Gilbert's statement.

"And I said I don't care. Come on, Matt, we've done it in worse places than this~"

Before Matthew could argue more, Gilbert brought his head up and crushed their lips together. Matthew tried to make a muffled protest, but Gilbert's tongue shoved its way in and prevented him from doing that. The hand under his shirt had slowly slid down to his waistband, and Matthew squirmed as he felt the cold wood press against his back.

"Well," Gilbert said as he drew away, slightly panting. "How about we do it nice and slow? You know, instead of fucking each other senseless. You're quieter during that."

"Can you not mention my vocal tendencies?" Matthew was trying to keep his breathing steady, as to not give Gilbert any encouragement. "And for the last time, no, _non, nein_!"

"Well then."

Matthew found himself pulled underneath so that he was pressed against the mattress. Gilbert was straddling him now, and leaned over him.

"Then I'll tie you up." He said, the grin on his face growing wicked. "And maybe gag you. Then there'll be no problem at all~"

Yet again, Matthew found his mouth completely occupied by Gilbert's before he had a chance to say anything. What was an intended protest ended up coming out as a moan as a hand skated _under _his boxers. Matthew felt he needed to put his foot down, and tell Gilbert that no, he wouldn't get his way _again_...later. Right now, his mind was occupied with thinking up revenge plans and keeping his voice down as he started to return the favour.

And then there was a sharp knock on the door. They jerked their hands away from each other, Gilbert placing his hands on either side of Matthew's head with a disgruntled expression.

"Matthew? Are you awake?" Arthur's voice floated in.

"Y-yes!" Matthew replied out breathlessly, earning a disapproving glare from Gilbert.

"Make yourself decent, boy. I need to talk to you."

"Just give me a second!" Matthew squeaked, and tried to wriggle out of Gilbert's grasp.

"Can't you do this in the morning?" Gilbert asked rather loudly.

"Gilbert!" Matthew whispered frantically. "He'll kill you!"

"So?"

"Matthew?" Arthur said his name again. "Is there someone with you?

"Yes, there is." Gilbert interjected, before Matthew had a chance to answer. Matthew took the momentary distraction to shove Gilbert off of him. He sat up, straightening up his t-shirt and pulling his boxers back up to a decent level. He ran his hands through his mussed up hair, trying to settle it down.

"Y-you can come in!" Matthew called out, trying to get his voice to an even level and hoped that he was not as red as he felt. "We're g-good..."

The door opened slowly, and Arthur stood at the doorway. He was wearing a maroon robe over his nightgown, and looked less than pleased at the scene.

"What do you want?" Gilbert asked flippantly. Much to Matthew's indignation, he had not bothered to put his shirt on, nor fix his disheveled hair.

"I just wanted some words with _Matthew._" Arthur said curtly, emphasizing Matthew's name. Gilbert decided not to pay attention, and stayed right where he was on the bed. "And isn't your room at the other end of the hall?"

Gilbert shrugged nonchalantly. "But Matthew's here. What's your point?"

Green eyes narrowed and Arthur gave a slightly pained sigh.

"Well, I suppose I can tolerate your company."

Gilbert shot Arthur a challenging look, and Arthur returned the gaze coolly. They had a stare-down for a good thirty seconds before Matthew cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable.

"So...Arthur...you wanted to talk about something?"

"Oh, yes. Well," Arthur looked at Matthew, his eyes softening a little bit. "Francis told me that you...er...wanted my blessings. For your relationship with...that thing."

Matthew ducked his head in embarrassment, avoiding Arthur's concerned gaze and Gilbert's extremely amused expression.

"Yes...well I sort of wanted your approval because...um...you and Francis sorta raised me, and Francis already gave his blessings and..." Matthew trailed off, giving Arthur a slightly pleading look. He could tell by the little jerks where Gilbert had sat up beside him that Gilbert was finding this rather entertaining.

"That frog agrees with everything." Arthur scoffed. "as long as I don't."

"Arthur..."

"No, no." Arthur waved Matthew off. "Let me finish, boy."

"O-okay."

"You're an old enough man...nation...whichever, to be fully capable of making your own choices. This relationship included."

Arthur directed a small smile to Matthew, and Matthew gave him a nervous one in return.

"So, even if you chose to be with a such an uncouth person, I trust you to make the best decision."

"T-thanks." Matthew replied, his smile slowly becoming a bit more genuine and grateful.

"Aw, Arthur, I'm so glad I got your approval~" Gilbert mocked, then broke into snickers as Matthew gave an exasperated sigh.

"_You_ did not get my approval, your _relationship_ got my approval. I just want Matthew to be happy."

"Wow, Artie. Under all those crusty layers, you actually have a heart."

"Heathen." Arthur spat back. "Don't make me come there and throttle you."

"Damn. What they say about the evil mother-in-law _is_ true."

"Mother- I'm not your bloody mother-in-law! I'm not a bloody mother in the first place, wanker!"

* * *

**2**

* * *

He groaned and looked at his watch again. The dimly lit green screen read three thirty a.m.

_Where is he?_

He knew that his boyfriend had gone out with his brother to do some 'brotherly bonding'. Which meant getting piss-faced at the bar of his brother's choice.

He was on the couch, watching some lame late-night TV program and waiting for him to come home. He wasn't the one who really stayed up for anyone, but he didn't expect the other to be out so late. At least without him.

Kumajirou was also awake, with Gilbird nestled on top of his head.

"Who?"

He ignored the bear, being used to hearing that question over and over again. It was when he was starting to doze off on the couch, when the doorbell finally rang. And rang. And rang and rang and rang. And there was some knocking, and a drunken calling of his name.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he barked, as he made his way to the door. The knocking continued until he unlocked the door and opened it. The man stumbled forward, immediately wrapping his arms around him in a large bear hug. In turn, he wrapped his own arms around him, trying to steady him before he collapsed on him.

"Gi-il, you stayed up for me~" Matthew giggled, his voice a few octaves higher.

"Yeah, yeah." Gilbert grumbled, pulling his boyfriend into the house. "Just so you don't fall up the stairs on your way to bed and bleed all over the place. It's a bitch to clean."

"Mmm, but Gil, what if I don't want to _sleeep_?" Matthew said, nudging Gilbert slightly. "What if I want to do something else?"

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"What if I want to..." Matthew tilted his head to the side and looked like he was pondering this for a second, and then grinned. "What if I want to _eat_?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed.

"No. Because I'll cook, and in the morning you'll complain on how I messed up the kitchen."

"Nooo!" Matthew looked highly offended, and tightened his group around Gilbert. "Why would _I _do such a thing?"

"You're wasted." Gilbert started to steer Matthew towards the stairs, but the blond started to push him towards the kitchen.

"Come _on _Gil!" Matthew whined, as they struggled in an awkward dance, each trying to get to a different destination. "Al didn't let me eat_any_thing! He spent our non-booze money on burgers and he didn't even _share_!"

"Alright, alright." Gilbert said, deciding that he would probably not hear the end of it either ways. And that Matthew would never let go of him if he didn't comply. "What do you want? Pancakes?"

After some time, and many destroyed kitchen utensils, Gilbert had gotten the hang of making the food. The "proper" way, as Matthew had said it, and not the "half-assed way with the Insta-Mix" that the Canadian rather disliked.

"Nope." Matthew replied, popping the p. It amused him, and he started repeating the word until Gilbert shut him up with a slight head butt to his forehead. "I want...wurst. Yup, wurst. You're the best at making wurst, so I want the wurst. Because I can't make wurst myself, oh no, I'm the worst and making wurst. Get it Gil? Worst at making wurst? Get it, get it, get it?"

"No, too much effort." Gilbert responded. "I'll make pancakes."

"But I _like _wurst!" Matthew pouted, but Gilbert kept his face blank, indicating that he would not budge. "Gil_bert!_ I make pancakes for you all the time, eh? Can't you make wurst for me _once_?"

"I'll make you some in the morning. Hell, I'll make you as much as you want in the morning, because I'm awesome like that. But I'm not making any now."

Seeing that Gilbert would not give in yet, Matthew decided to change his tactics.

"Hey Gilbert~"

"What?"

"_Please_ will you make me some?" He said, in his best attempt to purr. It came out as a sloppy slur, but that was okay.

"No."

"I'll do _anything_ for you, eh?" He said, lowering his voice and hoping it would work. Gilbert caught on to the intent behind the words.

On one hand, he didn't want to take advantage of his Matthew when he was drunk, especially since the kid would be nursing a nice hangover later in the morning anyways. On the other hand, now that they were together, it was alright to do things when either one of them weren't sober. Oh, and then there was that little thing where he had stayed up waiting for Matthew.

"If you fall asleep on me..." He said warningly, and Matthew flashed him a toothy smile showing that he was _totally _wide awake, even if inebriated.

"Would I do that?"

"Fine. Now let go of me." Gilbert sighed, looking at Matthew. "I'll make you wurst. But you better not expect me to clean up. _Anywhere._"

* * *

**3**

* * *

Matthew opened his eyes a tiny bit, vision blurred, feeling like someone had nudged him out of his sleep.

"Mornin', Mattie."

His half-asleep brain made out the mop of silver hair and twinkling red eyes resting on the pillow in front of him.

"Mornin' Gil." He yawned, as Gilbert's face came into focus.

Gilbert said nothing, and stared at Matthew, a big, rather wicked smile on his face. He had one arm swung over Matthew's waist, and pulled Matthew right up against his own body. Matthew noted that he had no shirt on.

"Gilbert?"

Gilbert still did not reply, and still had the grin on his face.

"...Oookay."

Even though he was now used to waking up with the other man, naked or not, Matthew still found the lack of distance between them and Gilbert's expression rather disconcerting, so he decided to roll over.

Except when he did, he came face to face with a set of bright blue eyes and a mess of blond hair. Something he _wasn't_ used to in the morning.

Matthew's own eyes grew wide, and he yelped, moving off the bed. Or tried to, because Gilbert's grip around him tightened significantly.

"What's up?" Mathias grinned. He too was only wearing his boxers.

"M-Mathias?" Matthew sputtered, wondering how the hell he had gotten into his bed. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

A third person cleared their throat. Lars, who was lying beside Mathias, propped himself up on one hand, smirking at Matthew.

Matthew shrank back into Gilbert's arms, as he tried to keep his eyes above both of their chests. Had they all forgot to dress before visiting him or something?

"What's going on here, guys?"

"Well," Gilbert said from behind him. "Think of it as a birthday gift."

"What do you mean?" Matthew was sort of confused now. His birth day had been two days ago, and he was pretty sure that they had 'celebrated' enough.

"Well, remember that party at Francis'? Where we first nearly hooked up? Remember that conversation that we had around the time you first came in?"

Matthew tried to recollect. The night had been etched into his memory. Some details were still vague though, since it had been so long ago. When he had first came, Gilbert said he was pregnant, Mathias said that he used to be pregnant, Matthew said men couldn't get pregnant, Gilbert said they could try and then Mathias and Lars said...

Oh.

Oh.

_Ohhhh._

Matthew was wide awake now.

Mathias saw the expression on Matthew's face, and immediately slung a leg across both Matthew and Gilbert, preventing escape for the blond.

"E-eh, guys, we're not really going to-" Matthew tried to squirm out, but the two men had a strong hold on him.

But Lars reached over and pressed a finger to Matthew's lips.

"Just this once, Matt. It'll be fun, trust us." He said, winking. Lars leaned in over Mathias' body, but Gilbert pushed his face out of the way.

"No, I'm the boyfriend, I get the morning kiss."

"Please." Lars scoffed, swatting away Gilbert's hand. "Let him properly wake up to something good for a change."

"He woke up to my awesome face!"

"You looked like a fucking rapist!"

"Says the one that looks at little girl porn!"

While the two bickered, Mathias saw it as an opportunity. He grabbed Matthew's head and pulled it towards him. Matthew meeped and Mathias gave him a sloppy, open mouth kiss which brought back the attention of the other two men.

"Hey, fuck you! That was not fair!" Gilbert protested, while Lars pried Mathias off. Matthew was in a greater state of shock than before, still trying to process what had just happened. After all, he wasn't used to waking up to two extra people in his bed.

"Dude, you need to learn how to share if we're going to do this." Mathias pouted, and Gilbert stuck his tongue out at him.

"Still, _I _was supposed to get the first kiss!" He said indignantly, blocking another attempt from Mathias.

"Oh for Christ's sake." Lars said, rolling his eyes, and then in a blink of an eye, he lunged forward and planted a kiss...

"Mother fu-"

...directly on Gilbert. And this was where Matthew's resolve started to break. Lars crawled over both Mathias and Matthew, straddling Gilbert. He kissed him again, and Gilbert grabbed his hair, trying to pull him off to no avail. Lars continued attacking the other's mouth, until Gilbert stopped trying to push him off. He pulled back with a smug expression, and Gilbert shot him a glare.

"So, can we do this or what?" Lars directed the question to Matthew, with a slight leer. Matthew looked back, slightly wide-eyed, as he felt someone's hand start to creep down his side and hook the thumb into his waist band of his boxers.

Oh, he was all up for monogamy. All up for it, but to see his rather rough-in-bed lover get caught and dominated like that...

"Holy _shit._ "

...was starting to plant ideas into his own head. He might as well take the opportunity presented. _They_ were the ones who offered it in the first place, right?

* * *

**FIN**

* * *

**If anyone has already has/does ever write a 4some with those guys, link it to me**

**you will make my life**

**I tried to wrap this story up at an even 70k words. You know, just because. This has gone 140 pages in word, which has been the longest thing I have EVER written. Complete insanity, but it was a shit ton of fun.**

**Anyways, that brings us to the end of this story.**

**Holy shit, I can't believe this story's already over. I was definitely not expecting all those faves/reviews/alerts, and it definitely did make me like realllly fuckin happy XD Plus I got to meet some cool people too through this. I love you all a fuckton, because all of you are so awesomely awesome.**** Thanks for supporting me through my first Hetalia fanfic, my first fan fic on here, and my first...fan fic in general. Lots of love, lots and lots of love. Y'all are amazing and I seriousley mean it.**

**-rides off into sunset-**


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